


IGHT 






/ 




Book ^n7 

CORfRIGHT DEPOSm 



SUNLIGHT 
AND STARLIGHT 



BY 



HENRY G. KOST 




i g^AimetV6RITAJ|p 



BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 



Copyright, 1911, by Henry G. Kost 



All Rights Reserved 






The Gorham Press, Boston, U. s. a. 



tCI.A320340 



TO THE MEMORY 
' OF 
MY PARENTS 



'Aimer, c'est agir." 

Victor Hugo. 



CONTENTS 
Our Country and Some Men 

Page. 

I Love Thee, Columbia 1 1 

Columbia's Call 12 

To the Nation's Conscience 13 

The White Fleet 15 

Abraham Lincoln 16 

William McKinley 17 

Henry George 19 

George Washington 20 

Napoleon Bonaparte * 21 

John Keats 21 

The Grave of Joseph Rodman Drake 22 

Thoughts, Scenes and Events. 

The Ideal 27 

The Old Peddler 29 

Lorelei Despoiled 29 

To the Egyptian Obelisk 33 

Irish Melodies 34 

Old Periodicals 34 

South Africa 35 

Israel, Mourning, 1905 36 

Alt Muetterchen 37 

The Witch 38 

The Electric Car 40 

Fiddle Notes '. 41 

Saturday Night 42 

Nature's Noblemen 43 

De Profundis 43 

The Hyacinth 44 

Denny's Pool 45 

Christmas 47 

5 



CONTENTS 

Musings and Problems. 

Page. 

Youth 51 

To Time 52 

Human Wishes 53 

To Man 54 

At Midnight 55 

Only for a Day 56 

Dreaming, Dreaming 57 

The Music of the Stars 58 

Midnight — "One Day Less" 59 

Envy 60 

Jealousy 61 

Avarice 62 

Quien Sabe ? 63 

Resemblance 63 

Ad Astra ? 64 

Mors Pallida 64 

Nature 

Daybreak 69 

To a Robin 70 

The Seasons 71 

Niagara 72 

Early Spring 74 

Spring 75 

The Brook 76 

In June 77 

June Twilight in Town 78 

Night in June 78 

Song 79 

Daylight and Starlight 80 

The Ocean 81 

Farwell to the Mountains 82 

Sunset 83 

6 



CONTENTS 

Personal and Emotional. 

Page. 

Remembrance 87 

Resurrection 87 

To My Wife 88 

Wanderlust 88 

To My Daughter 89 

To My Son Edgar 89 

June Child 90 

To My Sister 90 

Guidance 91 

Woman's Sphere 92 

To Sadie C 92 

To S. C. 93 

"Mizpah" 93 

Night and Day 94 

Slumber Song 94 

Meeting — Parting 95 

Conservatism 95 

My Mother 96 

Vanished 96 

At Moonrise 97 

Wherefore ? 97 

Vanitas 98 

The Maiden's Lament 98 

Everyday Verse. 

Satan's Comments 103 

The Road to Success for the Modern Poet. . 104 

The Past to the Present 105 

Modern War 107 

Sic 108 

The WTiite Man's Privilege 108 

Rags and Rubbish 109 

War, A. D., 1900 — Peace, A. D.? no 

7 



CONTENTS 



Page. 



Trusts 112 

"Manly Sport" 112 

The Poet 114 

Le Grand Tour 116 

Songs of Childhood. 

Seasons 121 

Games 124 

Wee Folks 127 



OUR COUNTRY AND SOME MEN 



I LOVE THEE, COLUMBIA* 

I love thee, Columbia, fair land of the west. 
By nature with lavish hand bounteously blest: 
Thy streams sparkling silver, thy plains waving 

gold. 
Thy lakes Heaven's mirrors, thy peaks towering 

bold; 
^Vhere the palm's sunny leaves greet the evergreen 

pine 
And the fruits of the west and the east intertwine. 
O refuge from oppression, 
Thou home of liberty; 
Whose starry banner shelters 
Freemen, forever free! 

I love thee, Columbia, for patriots died 
To wrest thee from tyrants that justice denied. 
Thy sons bled to save, from disruption and shame, 
Thy banner of stars and thy glory and fame, 
That, still, from thy shores there may ring o'er the 

sea 
The watchword of freedom, the song of the free. 

O refuge from oppression, 

Thou home of liberty; 

Whose starry banner shelters 

Freemen, forever free! 

I love thee, Columbia. In progress and toil, 

In love for thee rival the sons of thy soil ; 

From the Lakes to the Gulf, from Atlantic's wild 

roar 
To majestic Pacific's gold-glistening shore — 
Were a foe thee to threaten, thy name to despise. 
Thy sons in invincible ranks would arise. 



*Copyright, 1900, by Carl Fischer, New York. 
Music by T. M. Tobani. 

II 



O refuge from oppression, 
Thou home of liberty; 
Whose starry banner shelters 
Freemen, forever free! 

I love thee, Columbia, and, true e'er to thee, 
I'll strive for thy glory, O land of the free. 
May "Justice to all," be thy motto so brave, 
"Where none shall be master, and none shall be 

slave" — 
A nation united, as one we will stand : 
Our hearts pledged to thee, our dear native land. 

O refuge from oppression. 

Thou home of liberty; 

Whose starry banner shelters 

Freemen, forever free! 
1897 

COLUMBIA'S CALL 

Hark! 'tis the blast of the bugle. 
Hark! 'tis the blare of the drum: 
Arise in your might, ye patriots, 
The time to act has come. 
Ye freemen, it is our country's call — 
Americans, warriors, one and all! 
To arms ! To arms ! To arms ! 

Once more we'll follow the banner, 

Whose stars unblemished shine; 

Our sacred flag of freedom. 

Blest by the will divine. 

Forward ! ye men of the northland, 
Onward ! ye men of the west ; 
The south and the east send greetings. 
By one dear mother blest. 
Columbia, thy sons have heard thee all. 
Resolved to face the world at thy call. 
12 



To arms! To arms! To arms! 
Once more we'll follow the banner, 
Whose stars unblemished shine; 
Our sacred flag of freedom, 
Blest by the will divine. 

Strike! and remember the battles 
Your sires for liberty won; — 
Seventy-six, and the spirit 
Of hallowed Lexington. 
Columbia, with joy we heed thy call. 
United to shield thee, one and all. 
To arms! to arms! to arms! 

Once more we'll follow the banner. 

Whose stars unblemished shine; 

Our sacred flag of freedom. 

Blest by the will divine. 
1898 

TO THE NATION'S CONSCIENCE 

When you struck the shackles from him 

And you called your chattel man — 
Who, through gloomy centuries, suffered 

'Neath his color's darkened ban; 
When you gave the rights of freemen 

To the race your sires enslaved. 
How your hearts, with pride ennobled, 

Cheered the saviors and the saved ! 

Writ with golden letters, glistening 

In the sun of juster days. 
Flashed the purer constitution. 

Hailed and sung by poets' praise. 
While the world, slow evoluting 

From its prejudicial night. 
Marvelled that a nation's conscience 

Boldly dared assert its might. 

13 



When, oppressed by powers of darkness, 

Faintly came a cry for aid, 
With your open hearts you lavished, 

Blazed your will with gleaming blade. 
Yet, how strange! With deeds recorded. 

Glory gained in alien land — 
You would snatch the gift you granted 

From your brother's pleading hand? 

Name the day when, from his colors, 

Cravenly the freedman fled! 
Speak the word ! With heart devoted. 

For your land he fought and bled! 
'Neath the Stars and Stripes he conquered. 

Side by side with brethren true — 
AVhat that flag meant for the negro, 

Judge by what it means for you! 

Would you thrust him from the hearthstone 

That your fathers, willing, gave? 
From him wrest the rights of freemen, 

Whom your noblest died to save? 
Justice dwells where men are equal ; 

Hearken to her voice sublime. 
Lest you banish her you cherished. 

Turning back the hands of time. 

Oh, remember your traditions! 

Progress pales that leaves behind 
Bitter thoughts of wrongs unrighted. 

In the march of humankind. 
Guard the flaming torch of freedom. 

Yours, by right, in sacred trust! 
Lead the world in might and glory! 

Fearless, righteous, fair, and just! 
1903 



14 



THE WHITE FLEET 

At Riverside 

We are here, in our garments of white, 
In the hour of triumph and peace. 
When we spake the world was listening, 
And its wonder will never cease. 

There was need for our being and action, 
That our country no laggard be, 
Whose boast had become a legend — 
That she'd hold her own on the sea. 

We arose when the people called us, 
We arose from the brains that planned. 
In strength, to strike death and terror 
To the foes of our peerless land. 

'Neath the torrid sun of Asia 
We spoke — none were left to reply; 
And the Pearl of the smiling Antilles 
Saw us speak and our foemen die. 

No more shall the sad lamentation 
For Columbia's decline on the sea 
Pierce the hearts of her sons with sorrow — 
We are strong, and thus ever shall be. 

Flaunt the banner that blazed at Manila 
And the flag at Santiago unfurl'd! 
When we spoke it was ever to conquer. 
And our voice was heard all o'er the world. 

We are firm, and the mail that binds us 
Is no truer, indeed, than the steel 
Of the sons of the land of freedom, 
Who handle our guns and our wheel. 

15 



We are here, in our garments of white, 
In the hour of triumph and peace. 
When we spake the world was listening, 
And its wonder will never cease. 
1900 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

A rude log-cabin in the western wilds; 

A poor boy bent in study by the blaze 

Of home-made torch, and drinking, with delight. 

Wisdom's pure waters, in the lonely night. 

A sturdy youth, whose blade hoar giants fells 
To mark the outposts of man's daring fight 
With stubborn nature, and whose willing toil 
Wrings frugal sustenance from the virgin soil. 

An honest heart, replete with simple faith 
In the eternal righteousness of truth. 
When calumny casts o'er the weak its blight, 
An advocate of man's God-given right. 

A matchless winner of his people's trust, 
Whose plea sincere is born of guileless thought; 
Who towers, unreached, above the learned and staid. 
Whose rugged grandeur makes mere culture fade. 

A ruler by a sovereign nation's voice; 

A chief in council with unsullied soul. 

Whose saddened visage speaks the crowding care. 

Of burdens, he alone, of men, could bear. 

A faithful helmsman in the raging storm, 
Whose trust, unshaken, guides the ship of state 
O'er seas that hunger, with tempestuous might. 
To tear the covenant based on mutual right. 

16 



A bold eraser of the blot of shame, 
Who strikes the shackles from a trodden race, 
And crushes treason, with no faltering pause, 
In faith abiding in a righteous cause. 

An humble victor in a hapless strife, 
To malice stranger, and to vengeance blind, 
Whose outstretched hand would raise the fallen foe, 
Whose Christ-like heart forgives the treacherous 
blow. 

A martyr, whom malignant fate denied 
The modest mete his patient soul had craved, 
E'en when the sun, at last, burst through the pall 
That hung, tenacious, threatening woe to all. 

A memory! O a sainted shade — mankind 
Will ever cherish and will justly claim, — 
WTiile day and night on Time's round dial stand, — 
The noblest gift God gave this western land. 
1901 

WILLIAM McKINLEY 

Died September 14th, 1901 

Toll slow, O mournful bells, 
Our sorrow from dolorous throats, 
Your sad and solemn knells, 
Your woe-betokening notes! 
Ah, grief amongst us dwells. 
And lowly our banner floats: 

Our leader, chosen and tried. 
Our chieftain, benign and great, 
Our trust, and our hope, and our pride, 
Hath given his life for the state. 



17 



Your tribute, O cannons, roar 
O'er our ocean-girt land and the seas, — 
With your echoing thunder deplore, 
And the weighted silence release. 
Ah, well may our eagle soar, 
Half-hearted, in days like these: 

He hath fallen by coward hand, 
Who, beloved and exalted, stood; 
And a wail fills our cherished land, 
At the loss of the great and the good. 

Sound soft, O easeful airs, 

Twining comfort with sorrow and tears. 

Like a saint's ascending pray'rs. 

When death life's blossom sears. 

Ah, virtue honored fares, 

Victorious o'er dread and fears: 

O faith from those dying lips! 
O love of that failing voice! 
In your faintness pure eclipse 
A thousand sermons choice. 

Be hushed, O million sounds. 

Ye tireless wheels be still! 

For we all have a share in those wounds, 

That our bosoms with anguish fill. 

Ah, reverence glideth its rounds 

With a sad and tremulous thrill: 

Let us lay our leader to rest. 
Our chieftain, faithful and great. 
Enshrined in our hearts, ever blest, 
Who gave his life for the state 1 
1901 



18 



HENRY GEORGE 

Died October 29th, 1897 

Though not thy follower, yet now, that thou art 

gone, 
I feel a void, as when some brilliant star 
Is vanished from the mortal eyes of men — 
Some star that beamed its hopeful rays to guide 
The hopeless and the struggling, lonely one. 

Thou wast a man, a man, in these forlorn 
Conglomerate days, when many atoms strive 
Vainly to build some homogeneous soul 
That might pass muster as of sterner mould — 
Such as our fathers', when this land was born. 

A latter Franklin, in these days of gain, 
This era of aggrandizement; — how strange — 
A man in public life, whose only aim 
The welfare of his fellows, and whose voice 
Was raised to lift the lowly to a human plane ! 

Honest and fearless! — O how few can say 
That selfish interests flee their uttered word; 
That circumstances do not shape their course 
And bid them bow to some Gesslerian sham. 
Their manhood at some idol's feet to lay! 

Give me a man that calls a spade a spade ! 
One who is bound to see his honest thought 
Expressed in words that quibblers cannot shake, 
And man enough to bear the sting of want. 
The pain of censure, struggling undismayed. 

Truth must prevail, as the eternal sun 

His rays yields to our helpless planet Earth, — - 

So the inherent consciousness of right 

And justice will pursue its certain course, 

And warm the failing heart to work luidone. 

J9 



Heroic men are few, and when they die 
The boastful strutters of this globe must feel 
How vain is life before the giant-death, 
That smites the great, the just, the small, alike 
And grinds to dust the frames that time defy. 

But works remain, deeds of an honest soul 
Leave imprints on the sands of endless time — 
Thus, this brave lover of mankind will live. 
This honest champion of the rights of man, 
This friend of justice, whom the just extol. 
1897 

GEORGE WASHINGTON 

Serene and pure, thou loomst on History's page, 
A man of action, and yet more than man ; 
For God doth mold on some supremer plan 
A nation's founder, who creates his age. 

In danger calm, and virtue's favorite child, — 
Thy master-mind controlled a people's fate; 
Thy sword carved out a free and happy state; 
Thv wisdom curbed the passions keen and wild. 

The first among thy people, in whose heart 
Thou'lt live exalted and in love enshrined, 
While men may breathe of freedom's holy air. 
Thy spirit guide us when the heavens are fair. 
And lead us safely through the storms that blind, - 
Thy deeds our pole-star, and thy life our chart. 
1 901 



20 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE 

Pale boy of Corsica — hungry, without a name, 
Fed on ambition, all insatiate, 
To make thyself the greatest of the great ; 
Whose demon-zeal set half the world aflame! 

Petit corporel, who sentry's duty shared, 
Swelled to the despot, madly levelling all 
To keep perturbed Europe in thy thrall; 
Moving kings on life's chessboard as none other 
dared. 

What medley strange of mind's supremacy. 

Of intellectual height, with ruthless greed, and 

coarse. 
Thine, man of destiny, that knewest not love or 

pain ! 
Worshipped, yet hated, scoffing diplomacy — 
Latter Attila — master of plans and wars — 
But to all mankind — incarnate disdain! 
1895 

JOHN KEATS 

Immortal dreamer, who, with magic pen, 
Wokest Attic beauty from the tomb of time; 
And, conqueror of fashion, space, and clime, 
Sangst thine own soul into the souls of men ! 

E'en now, Endymion, with his silver queen 
Floats, whispering gently, on night's amorous 

breeze ; 
Hastes Porphyro bold, when chilled fountains 

freeze. 
To keep sweet tryst with saintly Madeleine. 



21 



Deep in gloom forest's banished, throbbing heart 
Yet wistful eye may trace Hyperion sad, 
Dim with the burden of unsceptred woe. 
O Pan still pipes, and Dian's virgin dart 
Cleaves rustling foliage where, in accents glad, 
Undying songs through poesy's kingdom flow. 
1 901 

THE GRAVE OF JOSEPH RODMAN 
DRAKE 

Hunt's Point, Bronx Borough 

"Green be the turf above thee. 
Friend of my better days! 
None knew thee but to love thee 
Nor named thee but to praise." 

Halleck. 

Scrubby knoll above the field, 
Straggling sunbeams, scarce revealed. 
Tangled bushes; vagrant trees; 
Weeds persistent; lulling breeze. 
Cobwebs clinging, brambled maze. 
Dim in twilight's ghostly haze. 
Fallen stones and mouldering names — 
Dust to dust, as Fate proclaims. 

Softly step, lest careless tread 
Pass upon the lonely dead 
In their home, that kindly earth 
Destined for them at their birth. 

Alas for the poet, too soon called away 
From the magic realm of the Culprit Fay! 
From the slow-gliding Bronx that inspired his muse 
With its waters pellucid, now prey to abuse. 



22 



O for the singer, whose voice rang on high 

In his song of the Flag that he claimed from the sky! 

Had he been spared, O Columbia, to thee. 

Proudly defiant from sea unto sea! 

Had he beheld thee, the queen of the world, 

Envied wherever thy banner's unfurl'd! 

Feared and respected, unsullied and free, 

Thy stars the bright beacons of liberty! 

Endless his sleep in his narrow cot. 
By many unnoticed, by few not forgot; 
Lonely, neglected — but little to spare 
Had mother-Earth for this poet so rare. 
Running wild riot, the weeds rank enslave, 
By blossoms unbrightened, the singer's lone 
grave. 

Yet, when the summer-night silently falls, 
Fire-flies flit and the cricket calls. 
And, from their slumber, elf, goblin, and fay 
Hasten to guard him who sang their lay ; 
Sang of their deeds in the long-ago, 
When his pulses beat and his cheeks were 
aglow. 

Bright, on the swell of the azure wave, 
Flashes the flag of the free and the brave; 
Blazons the emblem he proudly sung, — 
Deathless, his strains, and inspiring, have rung. 
And, in the distance, the echoing roar 
Speaks of his country's might from the shore; 
Speaks from the mouth of the cannon grim — 
Terror of foes, but a tribute to him. 

Tangled the bushes, neglected the spot. 
Lonely and flowerless the singer's cot. 
Many the days since they laid him to rest, 

23 _ ^: 



Gathered so young to the realms of the blest. 
And the moons that waned and the years that 

died 
Enshroud his life in eternity's tide. 

Faint, like a sigh from the dim spirit-land, 
Glide the sad lines traced by friendship's true 

hand. 
Tears, their mute music, e'er sacred they be — 
Honoring the poet who sang of the free! 
1900 



24 



THOUGHTS, SCENES, AND EVENTS 



THE IDEAL 

When violets azure starred the mead 

And smiling wreaths crowned happy trees, 

A youth strode on, where blade and weed 
Swayed gently in sweet vernal breeze. 

'Twas rapturous light illumed his eyes, 

E'en while he asked enthusiast-wise: 

"O saw ye not the maiden rare. 
With dreamy eye and raven hair? 
Her form is light as sunbeam fair; 
Her voice is soft as angel's pray'r." 

The ploughman halts his patient yoke. 
On knotty arm he leans his frame; 

"I saw her not," he slowly spoke, 
"And doubt she ever hither came." 

While fields rejoiced in flowers bright 
And nature throbbed with life and song. 

By hope's own pulsing blush bedight, 
A sturdy traveller passed along. 

Though steadfastly he plod his way, 

Yet pause he would, to query aye: 

"O saw ye not the maiden rare. 
With dreamy eye and raven hair? 
Her form is light as sunbeam fair; 
Her voice is soft as angel's pray'r." 

His sweeping scythe the reaper staid; 

His palm relieved toil's glistening brow; 
"I saw her not," he thoughtful said. 

Nor ever passed she hence, I trow." 



27 



The shade was heaped with rounded fruit, 
Ripe autumn stored the bams full well; 

His path, a wanderer hoar, pursued, 
Whose beard o'er aching bosom fell. 

His frame on limbs all-palsied sway'd. 

Yet feebly quoth he, undismay'd: 

"O saw ye not the maiden rare, 
With dreamy eye and raven hair? 
Her form is light as sunbeam fair; 
Her voice is soft as angel's pray'r." 

The gleaner glanced from stooping task, 
And pity smoothed his rugged face, — 

"I saw her not, for whom you ask. 
Nor one like her, about this place." 

On hill and dale white mantle lay. 
And hard and hopeless froze the ground ; 

The starlight's lonely keep alway 

Remained a bare, unfriended mound. 

And from it floats, in ghostly breath. 

The quest bequeath'd by life to death: 

"O saw ye not the maiden rare. 
With dreamy eye and raven hair? 
Her form is light as sunbeam fair; 
Her voice is soft as angel's pray'r." 

The eyes of heaven search afar 

Throughout the pathless universe — 

"I saw her not," thus beams each star, 
'Tis vain to seek such charms as hers." 

1 901 



28 



THE OLD PEDDLER 

A poor old man who bears a triple load : — 
His aching-gathered wares to eke his life, 
And age, and poverty — so Atlas-like, 
Upon his shoulders, with a world of woe. 
Let him not pass without a kindly nod 
Of sympathy, to help him bear his lot 
With less heart-breaking, and a mite to ease 
His lessening journey to its looming end. 
He, too, once smiled upon a mother's breast. 
And gamboled, joyful, o'er the village-green, 
Or cleared the hedges with an agile foot ; 
In youth, eyed buxom maids with eyes aglow 
With passion, long since buried with his past. 
His lot was lowly and his mind enslaved 
By ignorance, or dulled with dreary toil; 
His wants, the cravings of the primitive. 
But he is human and deserves a glance, 
E'en from the thoughtless, for he, too, can claim 
God's fathership and part of mother Earth, 
When, from his labor, he shall fall asleep, — 
As all his brethren sink to rest some day, — 
To be forgotten, while the world goes on. 
1900 

LORELEI DESPOILED 

Fashioned, immaculate, by cunning hands, 
I vainly craved for some secluded spot, 
Nestled among the vineyards of my native stream, 
Haunted by legends of the age of dreams, 
Sacred to deepest passion, where, forsooth, 
Fair Aphrodite might cleave the golden waves. 
Lending her ravished ear to some immortal song. 
As, on his chariot, from the flaming east, 
Phoebus Apollo poured his flood of light. 
Mingled with flood of harmony divine, 
29 



To lighten and inspire the human heart, 

Burdened of worldly cares, and sore with grief — 

Such as the glad Immortals never knew; 

Such as my poet felt as mortal man. 

E'en while his spirit tasted joys divine, 

Sipping of nectar, on ambrosia fed. 

Though fleshly torment racked his earthly frame. 

Yet vain my craving, by the stream of song, 
The tabernacle of Teutonic hearts. 
My spirit's ancient haunts, to muse and sing. 
While Helios' rays, bom from Oceanus' depths. 
With sparks lit on divine Olympian heights, 
My tresses kissed, and shone my flashing comb. 
Luring the woful youth to amorous spell. 

For mortals tore my singer from his grave, 
Hurling anathemas upon his silent lips, 
Piercing his heart with shafts of venomed hate, — 
"Unpatriotic mocker, skeptic vagabond, 
Sensuous voluptuary, scribbler bribed by foes. 
Doubter of doubtless rights of kings' divine. 
Base, ingrate proselyte, blasphemer," and the like 
They cried, and turned me from my native haunts — 
A restless wanderer on this whirling orb. 

Driven from home, mine eyes drank in the west, 
Where Phoebus settles in a burst of gold. 
More splendid in its wealth than Midas knew; 
Sacred to human freedom, where the stars 
Shine forth in azure field and lend their shielding 

ray 
To millions, free and equal, — sovereigns all. 
By right divine, ordained of human will; 
Where each may serve the Power his heart conceives 
To the full measure of his conscience, free. 



30 



In true adorement, of his neighbor's thoughts; 
Yet where all kneel at Freedom's altar, raised 
On broadest base of equal rights for all. 

Here lingered I, awaiting some fair place 
Within the confines of the garden-spot, 
Wherein the tumult rests to dream and play; 
Where children, great and small, are void of care. 
And Nature smiles with Art, their hands a-clasped. 

But lo, with plans and tablets, learned men. 

With compass, rule, and magnifying glass. 

With the experience of the connoisseur 

And expert judgment, came, and, forthwith, found 

Me, and my cherished emblematic train — 

"Ill-fitted, unaesthetic, ugly, vile, 

And deviating from most sacred rules." 

And thus decreed my exile to extend. 

Until some pitying heart might grasp my woe, 

With generous hand provide some welcome home, 

Where I might rest from my long wandering. 

Rumor, borne gently, on mild Notus' wings. 

Breathed softly that, from the bright city, famed 

For its surprising wealth of women fair, 

The summons came to bid me join the throng 

Of chiselled images, that dare not vie 

With the more perfect forms that grace its homes; 

And from the shores of the majestic stream, 

Yon superb rival of my native Rhine, 

There floated, faintly, from the western bank. 

Amid the noise of traffic, and the clang 

Of whirring wheel and shrill, disturbing valve. 

The cry subdued: "Ah come to us, fair maid, 

Within our fields, Elysian, rest be thine!" 

But vain the rumor, vain the welcome tones, 



31 



Beating but feebly on the surging throngs 
That, rushing breathless, with unceasing toil, 
Make, what she is, the Empress of the West. 

At last, at last, I found a resting place 

Amid the lonely regions of the Bronx, 

Where, slow, the surging waves of trade subside, 

And lovely nature sadly yields to fate; 

Where tree and flower survive to mutely breathe, 

For some brief spell, of more poetic days. 

When frugal fare and honest, sober toil 

Had fit reward in lengthened lives of peace, 

And madly-rushing crowds did not pursue 

The fleeting feet of Hermes, to o'ertake 

The god and grasp his store of glistening gold, — 

The goal of this industrial, noisy age. 

Here, mid the swaying trees, they gave me rest 

From my long wanderings, step-child, I, of scorn, 

Of narrow quibbling for my poet's sake. 

Of rigid ruling in the name of art. 

Rest, rest I found, and thousands greeted me 

With hearts of welcome, chanting my fair song. 

That made my singer deathless to this world. 

Ah me — I weep — at last to rest, and find 
Myself despoiled by an ignoble hand, — 
E'en on Columbia's hospitable soil: — 
Sad Melancholy's lonely features crushed; 
My fair Euterpe headless, and the rose 
She offered my sweet singer, ruthless torn 
With her soft arm, from her entrancing frame. 

And why this act ? Did base, malignant spite 
Thus vent its wrath ? or gloomy prejudice. 
Slink darkly forth, enwrapped in inky night. 
To coward deed? or were conceived, perchance, 
These fatal blows of some befuddled brain? 

32 



Ah me ! Far have I wandered ; rudely coarse 
Hath been my treatment at the hands of men ; 
But now, this heartless vandal adds disgrace 
To all my suffering, and I mutely bow 
My head in sorrow, and my thoughts shall be 
Unuttered to th' impassive throng, and mute, 
My lips — I dream of fairer days, when song 
Of glad Immortals filled my breast with joy, 
Nor breathed its sweetness on man's prose-dulled 

ear, 
Till my great singer sang it to the world. 
1900 

TO THE EGYPTIAN OBELISK 

Hail, Ancient Stranger from the land of Morn! 
Who, in old age, hast sought these western climes. 
From the veiled past where, mythic and forlorn, 
Rose Heliopolis in forgotten times. 

On thee, O emblem of the rising sun, 

A hundred generations gazed and died. 

And passed to nothing, while thou stand'st as one 

Born for eternity — great Thotmes' pride. 

He, who once raised thee to Hor em akhou, 
Would have, as mighty Phra, thee grant and give 
E'erlasting life, and thou, with language true, 
Imbuest mortal with desire to live. 

Still, when thine age he calmly contemplates 

And counts the hastening years 'twixt birth and 

death. 
Life seems a mockery, and unkind the Fates, 
That, when he wills to live, deny him breath. 



33 



"O for a long existence, and to see 

Those scenes that thou complacently hast view'd!" 

The soul's vain longing, whose philosophy: 

To search life's depths — serves only to delude. 

Remind, mute witness of the distant past, 
Remind the heedless of those gone before. 
Life's vanity thy theme, while thou shalt last, 
Oblivion, when towards heaven thou point'st no 
more. 



IRISH MELODIES 

I heard the soft plaint with its harmony floating. 
The sigh of a people, the voice of a race; 
And the melody sad, with its accents denoting 
A tribute to love, wreathed with chivalry's grace. 

I thought of your fate, your devotion to freedom; 
The ken of your stern resolution was mine. 
And the struggle and strife for ideals you cherish, 
That link all your hearts, like a mission divine. 

I thought of your valor — the vanguard in battle, 
Your bright wit and humor, your keen repartee. 
Your love for that isle — and they all seemed trans- 
figured — 
Your songs drew the tears of affection from me. 
1 901 

OLD PERIODICALS 

Mutely ye lie, and yet, how eloquent 
Your still appeal recalls to memory 
Those by-gone days, when many an hour I spent 
Upon your pictured page, and history, 
Romance, and science their enchantment lent. 

34 



You spoke to me, in thousand various ways, 
The thoughts of gifted minds, and iancy's touch 
Revealed not, then, the toil, the pain, for praise 
And fleeting gold — e'en if their lot was such — 
That spurred long-orphaned pens in halcyon days. 

Mutely ye lie ; and heartless, base, it seems 

To turn you from the home that welcomed once 

Your weekly visit, and where youth's fond dreams 

Wove visions of the future, in response 

To inspiration from your magic reams. 

Ah grievous pity! sheltering space is small, 

So, to damp mouldering, you must be consigned. 

In dismal subterranean gloom, or fall 

To strangers who, perchance, may, scattered, find 

Your serried numbers, at some petty stall. 

Thus, ye are fated, faithful friends of old, 
To share life's round of harsh vicissitude. 
The world is open for the young and bold; 
It greets the infant — yet, how destitute 
In veneration! — to the aged, how cold! 
1901 

SOUTH AFRICA 

Who seeks for cause in this unholy strife. 
That bids the very heavens cry for shame; 
This hideous sacrifice of pulsing life. 
This carnage for most pitiable fame? 

'Twas not the gold that Afric's bosom bears; 
'Twas not the mandate 'gainst an alien rule. 
That smote this earth with hellish pang, and tears 
The hearts that beat not in some wretch or fool. 



35 



Human aggression and man's stubborn mind, 
These sway yon scions of a brother-race, 
Whose sturdy valor dazzles all mankind, 
Whose murderous struggle, Christ's own words dis- 
grace. 

Aye, talk of progress, ye, who string the soul 
On dry statistics and, with wrinkled mien, 
Shake for j^our problem, lest survive the whole, 
And not your fittest, as you fondly ween. 

Go, preach your doctrine to the human beast, 
Enraged for blood, and calling on its God 
To justify its ravage, unappeast 
By gory streams and grave-uprooted sod. 

Ah, glorious progress, wise, enlightened age, 
That cannot stay the fratricidal blow! 
Shame-faced, turn back cold Clio's blood-stained 

page 
Ten centuries or more, and voiceless grow! 

There seek, ye thoughtful sophists, if ye must. 
The cause, the justice of this sacrifice. 
That stamps God's creatures into useless dust, 
And mocks your culture, with its frenzied eyes. 
1901 

ISRAEL, MOURNING, 1905 

Aye, mourn thy slain, O Israel, weep, and mourn 
The gloomy powers that would efface thy name 
With gory torch, and blaze their own, base shame, 
In dullness brute, by envy's hand upborne. 



36 



Ah, through the ages hast thou mourned the scorn, 
The venomed shafts that hate, 'mid hoarse acclaim, 
Through centuries flung, yet vainly strove to maim 
Thy spirit bowed, but firm and unforlom. 

Do not despair! Ere long the day shall dawn 
When, slain, at last, by thought's all-conquering 

might. 
Black prejudice shall yield its brutal ghost. 
And ignorance perish with its loathsome spawn ; 
When truth, unbound, shall flood the world with 

light, 
And upward, onward, lead her clear-eyed host. 
1905 

ALT MUETTERCHEN 

Yon silvery locks once shown like gold, 
And smooth as apples were those cheeks, 
Where roses bloomed and blushed of old. 
That paled and fled the furrowed streaks. 

Those gentle eyes with quiet gaze. 
Once laughed bewitchingly, and burned 
Their fire in hearts that craved the blaze. 
And recognition humbly yearned. 

How lithe, in graceful dances, swayed 
That stooping form when, round and fair, 
On dainty feet, a winsome maid. 
She glided, sylph-like, debonair. 

Those shrivelled hands, once soft and white, 

A long-forgotten dollie clasped ; 

In childish glee, with pure delight. 

The wreath from fragrant meadows grasped. 



37 



The trifles of those buried days, 

Like flowers, spring from memory's tomb; 

And childhood's joys, the final rays 

Of dying stars, pierce age's gloom. 

1 901 

THE WITCH 

"Lead forth the witch!" the justice spake — 
"She hath been found, by Christian folk, 
Allied with Satan's goat and drake, 
And willful sought the arch-fiend's yoke." 

"So, therefore, for the common weal. 
And in the name of the Most High, 
It now is meet that justice seal 
Her fate, and, forthwith, she mote die." 

"Upon the stake she shall expire; 
Dark sin hath long defiled her heart; 
Her soul be cleansed by flame and fire, 
And with her perish devilish art." 



The crowded square is hushed and still, 
With agitation vain to trace. 
Though yon accusers hide but ill 
Their bated breath and ashen face. 

And eyes, bewitched in rigid stare. 
Behold a hapless creature led 
By law's cold hands, a maiden fair. 
With guilt's base chaplet on her head. 

She mounts the scaffold, lost in dream, 
No sigh escapes her branded breast; 
Nought, in her black eyes' furtive gleam, 
Save awed bewilderment exprest. 
38 



Her frame is slight; her cheeks are pale, 
Yet vagrant blushes o'er them haste 
As, rudely, though she, trembling, quail, 
A sinewed churl enchains her waist. 

A flickering flame — a piercing shriek 
To heav'n ascends — an eager blaze, 
Whose tongues man's fiery sentence speak, 
And wrest her from man's fiercer gaze. 

Still lips are mute and hearts beat slow, 
Nor silent pray'r the spell can break. 
That hisses in yon dazzling glow, 
And, quivering, crimsons cloud and lake. 

'Tis done. — The throng, reluctant, leaves 
The smouldering scene of vanquished shame. 
Where lingering smoke still darkly weaves 
Its funeral wreath o'er dying flame. 



A sluggish stream subservient seeks 
Its hav'n of peace, the meeting-house, 
Whose bare unworldliness bespeaks 
The parson's theme and knitted brows. 

In sombre sermon he exhorts 
His passive listeners to beware 
The fiend, that modest virtue courts, 
And glibly lays his treacherous snare. 

"Go hence, ye sinners, to your home" — 
His thundering words, the voice of doom — 
"Know ye, who from God's pathway roam. 
That sinful joys reap death and gloom." 



39 



"Go, contrite, hence, and, fervent, pray 

That, humbly, ye may live and serve 

The Lord, as He decides ye may. 

Nor from His stern commandments swerve!" 



Morn's rosy smile becalms the sea ; 
The west-wind rocks the flowers of spring, 
And where may saints and sinners be? — 
O'er leveled graves the robins sing. 

Through time's cool archways glides a sigh ; 
A ghostly whisper links the years; 
The same sun gilds the same blue sky. 
And joy is wedded still to tears. 
1 901 

THE ELECTRIC CAR 

I come with a hiss and I pass with a roar; 

I am gone like the blast on a desolate shore. 
My frame is of iron ; my soul is the spark 

That man has enslaved from the powers of dark. 

For haste is my motto, and speed is my song; 

My master must think when I'm rushing along; 
For life is a span, and time it is gold, 

And man, to succeed, must be nimble and bold. 

I care not for anguish; I halt not for pain; 

I note not the victims my hurry has slain; 
None hinder my progress, nor curses nor tears — 

Life hinges on seconds, and seconds make years. 

1 901 



40 



FIDDLE NOTES 

Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle, 
Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle: 
O'er the distance, through the night, 
While the silent stars are listening, 
Nimble music wakes the fiddle. 
Winging laughter, silv'ry bright. 

Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle, 
Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle: 
Care is fled and mirth is king. 
For the glad brief summer hours; 
Life has ceased to be a riddle — 
Heart and voice concordant ring. 

Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle, 
Di dee li dee, — di lee, di lid-die: 
Eyes a-sparkling, clear as day. 
Cool, refreshing breezes dally. 
Agile feet inspires the fiddle; 
Graceful forms in rhythm sway. 

Di dee H dee, — di lee, di lid-die, 
Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle: 
Might thus e'er the heart accent, 
While it beats, this thoughtless pleasure; 
Leaving sages solve the riddle. 
O'er their gloomy pages bent. 

Di dee li dee, — di lee, di Hd-dle, 
Di dee li dee, — di lee, di lid-die. 



1900 



41 



SATURDAY NIGHT 

How sad the sight — a strong man led 
By yonder child along the street, 
With staggering step and muddled head, 
While curses, foul, his lips repeat. 

A slave to passions that degrade, 
Nor bind their chains on lowest beast; 
That holiest duties bid evade, 
And sway the greatest like the least. 

It is not mine to cast the stone, 
I know mankind is prone to sin; 
But years of toil could not atone 
For wrongs like this, to nearest kin. 

My heart beats for yon anxious boy 

Who feels his sire's keen disgrace. 

What thoughts his young hopes must destroy, 

With shame stamped on his youthful face! 

O subtle demon, that dost creep 
With treacherous charm through helpless man. 
And dost thy weakened victim keep 
From honor's call and nature's plan! 

Ah, wretched beings, who incite 
Such scenes as this, for petty gain! 
Yon child's sad eyes your deeds indict; 
To God, his tears shall not be vain. 
1901 



4a 



NATURE'S NOBLEMEN 

Here is health to the man that says "yes", or says 

no , — 
Be he wise or unlearned, be he brilliant or slow. 
I am full, to the core, with disgust and disdain 
For the quibblers and gliders, intriguers and vain. 

Here's a shake for the hand that is warm and is 

firm; 
For the snake and the worm are cold-blooded and 

squirm. 
I detest the conceit that is blatant and loud; 
I abhor the smooth villain that slinks through the 

crowd. 

Here's success to the work that is honest and fair, 
Be it planted on earth, be it builded in air. 
May the devil confound his slick pupil that tries 
To attain any goal by his cringing and lies. 
1901 

DE PROFUNDIS 

"Here, where men sit and hear each other groan." 
J Keats. 

O Health, fair goddess of the beaming face. 
Now but a memory, who wert once my friend, 
My childhood's rosy guardian, wont to lend 
Uncraved, thy presence, with benignant grace. — 

O did my midnight musings, and the trace 
Of siren Nicotine bid thee forefend 
My listless couch, that Morpheus dost not send, 
From quivering brain enjoining time and space? 



43 



Or is life's daily rack thine mortal foe? 

Since thou elud'st me, when, with impish glee. 

Fears, frights, and torments palsy, dumb and slow. 

Mine onward step, and throttle, dizzily. 

Clear thought, nor wouldst my poor, weak heart 

assuage. 
Fluttering, like captive bird, in poisoned cage. 
1906 

THE HYACINTH 

Of all the youth whom Hellas bore, 
None more than Hyacinthus fair; 
Beloved of the god of song. 
Endowed with charm and beauty rare. 

Alas, for those, on whom their love. 
In tender years, the gods bestow ; 
Not theirs the lot, the gifts divine 
To scatter long, on earth below. 

Twas thus, decreed the envious Fates, — 
Or jealous Zephyr's spiteful will — 
That from Apollo's hand should dart 
The discus, swift with fatal skill. 

As, wounded sore, and faint with pain. 

In Attica's embowered wood. 

The god-loved boy, expiring, lay. 

On moss-bed, stained with precious blood, — 

His heart transfixed with grief divine, 
Apollo bade a flow'r to spring, 
From each red drop, eternally, 
A fragrant ruby-wealth to bring. 



44 



And years have cOme and years have passed — 
Each vernal season sees arise 
On emerald stalk sweet jewels set, 
To feast man's sense, delight his eyes. 

And each fair blossom tells anew 
This touching tale of mythic days ; 
The hyacinth, with tears of dew, 
Turns longing to the sun-god's rays. 
1905 

DENNY'S POOL 

On the Eastkill, near Beaches Corners, Greene 
County, N. Y. 

Beware, beware of Denny's Pool 

And the rock that forms its side ; 
In the forest deep, by the mountain steep. 

Where the Eastkill's waters glide. 

O winsome, fair, is the laughing stream, 

As by sunlit field it hies. 
Where the elm-trees tall, and the willows' wall 

From their pictured image rise. 

But the inky depth of Denny's Pool, 

In its frame of hemlock's gloom, 
With its frowning face, is a gruesome place, 

That yawns like a watery tomb. 

When the Iroquois dwelt, a warrior-race, 

In the Mountains of the Sky,* 
When the war-whoop rang, and the bow-string's 
twang 

Bid the death-winged arrow fly, 



*Onteora — "Mountains of the Sky" — Indian 
term for the Catskills. 

45 



The Manitou, grieved, in his sorrow shed 

A tear from his great, grey eye; 
And it fell with a splash, like a thunder-crash, 

And the riven rocks echoed his sigh. 

But the red-man dreaded the spirit's wrath, 

Onteora grew peaceful and still; — 
And the pale-face came, and his axe and his name 

Blazed boldly on mountain and hill. 

Dan Denny set forth in the midsummer's night 
With his lure for the waters' queen; 

And he cast about, for the wily trout. 
The bushes and bowlders between; 

And he came to the rock that was riven in twain 
By the tear from the Manitou's eye; 

He saw, in the gloom, the watery tomb. 
And he whisked his moth-winged fly. 

But the Great-Spirit, wroth, in his righteous wrath 

Bid a monstrous trout to rise. 
And Denny's line sang, and the dim forest rang 

With his loud and exultant cries. 

And he played his prey in the dismal gloom. 

By the waning moon's faint ray; 
And he coaxed and curst, and in anger burst, 

Boding ill for his judgment-day. 

The sombre firs sighed 'mid the cruel fray. 

And the screech-owl hooted its cry, 
When Dan Denny vowed, by his soul and his 
shroud, 

To conquer his game, or to die. 



46 



As he leaned o'er the brink of the ebon crag, 
With a splash rose the king of the gloom, 

And the angler was flung, unshriven, unsung. 
To the bottomless depths of his tomb. 

In midsummer's night, when the moon hangs low 
And the fire-flies flash on the stream, 

A ghost faint is seen, the bushes between, 
Gliding on to the goal of his dream. 

Beware, beware of Denny's Pool, 

In its frame of forest's gloom; 
With its haunting face, 'tis a gruesome place. 

And grim as man's pitiless doom. 

1909 

CHRISTMAS 

Christmas bells! Christmas cheer! 
Happiest time in all the year; 
Though, in winter's icy clasp, 
Nature slumber, cold and drear, 
Field and wood be chill and sere. 
Christmas bell toll the knell 
O'er the corpse of frantic strife, 
Envy, hatred, selfish life; 
Let them lie in deepest grave. 
With no pray'rs their souls to save. 
Hail the birth, again on earth, 
Of sweet charity and worth — 
Christmas come, to open, wide, 
Hearts, by yule-lit fireside. 

Christmas star! Christmas tree! 

Tide of blissful memory, 

Light our path with guileless thought, 



47 



Bring the joy, oh joy of yore, 
From your unexhausted store. — 
Christmas star, from afar, 
Beam thy blessings, meek and mild, 
O'er the world grown wise and wild ; 
Beam with blessed ray again: 
"Peace on earth, good will to men." 
Christmas breathe, with incense rare, 
Love and kindness everywhere. 

Christmas fair! Christmas bright! 
Hail to thee, oh holy night! 
Thou, of nature's hope, the sign, 
Gav'st to earth the babe divine; 
Giv'st, unto these later days, 
Grateful hearts, and lips to praise. 
Wondrous night, that bid'st arise 
Visions craved by fancy's eyes: 
Fire-lit hills, in thought, we see. 
Brightest star o'er Galilee; 
Oak-tree wreathed with mistletoe, 
Humble manger's aureole glow. 

Christmas tide, oh abide 
With thy message, far and wide; 
Wave o'er hearts thy magic wand, 
Bringing peace to every land. 
Christmas, with thy gentle mood, 
Teach our common brotherhood. 
Bells and cheer, and star and tree, 
Christmas ever welcome be ! 
1905 



48 



MUSINGS AND PROBLEMS 



YOUTH 

An ample armchair, clouds of ambient smoke, 
And thoughts — O solace for thy buried years! 
And if age chill thee? — wisdom's sober cloak 
Wrap snugly round thee, youth's own joys and tears 
No longer warm; of silvered strains, a throng 
Cheers not the monotone of dull routine. 
Nor hastes thy pulses to their wonted pace. 
But faint, unstirring, sounds that once-loved song; 
The breath of spring, its banner's emerald sheen, 
To thine experienced mind seem commonplace. 

O for the fountain that, in legends old. 
Poured forth its waves in some meridian Thule! 
Fragrant with blossomed breezes manifold 
From sun-girt lands, within whose crystal pool 
Men might wash oflF their years, and leap anew 
Into the turmoil, the glad strife of youth. 
That grasps the day and lets the morrow rest 
With its own cares, and, laughing, life's sore rue 
Shakes on slow wisdom, — wild, perchance, uncouth, 
Yet happy as yon warbler in its nest. 

O fame and station! — pitiful array, • 
Age-burdened, limp behind youth's winged feet. 
Vain would the worrying purse with red-cheeked 

play. 
Or cares of state with boyhood's joy compete. 
O monarchs true! whose steeds, subservient hours. 
Bear you, at will, amid the magic train 
Of pleasure, dedicate to rosy health. 
O kings uncrowned ! that dream not of your powers. 
Yet rule a realm age never can regain, 
Armed, cap-a-pie, with years, with thought, and 

wealth ! 
1903 



51 



TO TIME 

O fleeting spirit that, impassionate, 

Pursuest, unhalting, thine eternal course, 

With naught to bid thy hastening foot to pause, 

Nor genial welcome to thee, soulless fate! 

Remorseless, chase, insensate, — unconcerned 
By life or death, unmoved by smile or tear, 
Thou turn'st the guiltless hope to trembling fear. 
And quenchest zeal that for perfection yearned. 

What is to thee ambition's lofty flight? 
That hast seen empires sink to nameless graves! 
What import to thee, sovereigns and slaves? 
That hold'st, in equal balance, day and night! 

The merry laughter of sweet childhood's joy. 
The artless fancy of love-drunken hearts, 
The faith in toil, the care that trust imparts. 
The tottering step creat'st thou, to destroy. 

Thy breath doth bleach ; it tears the raven gloom 
And blows the roses from the ruddy cheek ; 
Thy furrows plough'st thou on the strong and meek; 
Thou rock'st the cradle and thou digg'st the tomb. 

Coldly thou glidest through ages and through space; 
Planets and suns thou Hght'st to shine and pale. 
Thou bear'st existence, but to draw the veil. 
And nothingness dreams of its vaguish trace. 

Thou guidest faiths to spring from hope and fear. 
Dogmas and creeds, to rise and sway awhile; 
Fancy's divinities dost form, to reconcile 
Men to their lot, and mould the hapless seer. 



52 



To bcj with thee, is to have been, forsooth, 
As crumbling legends breathe realities, 
As clouds bespeak vague aqueous entities, 
As theory essays to master truth. 

Haste on uncurbed! Who envieth thy flight? 
Whose eyelids never close to grateful sleep; 
Whose name — indifference; whose vigils keep. 
Vainly, the spheres, that wrestle with thy might. 

Thou suffer'st not the torments thou must bear 
To all existence, since it is by thee. 
Yet thou art helpless, nor can'st e'er be free 
To view, complacent, what is true and fair. 
I goo 

HUMAN WISHES 

When shall that be which is not, which we seek? 

Weary travellers of earth; 
Whose every accent some desire doth speak, 

Who hope from birth. 

That will o'wisp, escaping as we clasp 

Close to it our eager hand ; — 
We might as well the heavenly beacons grasp, 

That light the unknown land. 

What are our hopes and wishes? Fancy's birds, 

Roaming away, when born. 
Seeking that realm, whereof the preacher's words 

Tell all the sad, forlorn. 

1885 



53 



TO MAN 

Why should'st thou be my foeman, framed, like me, 
Of mortal substance, since, by subtle chance, 
Our pathways meet in this brief space of time 
The Power inscrutable allots to man? 

Our world is one vast graveyard where, forgot, 
The ashes of the myriad dead repose, 
Who, too, as thou and I, had planned and hoped 
To conquer, but to find the tomb their goal. 

'Tis well to strive, to learn, to think, to act ; — 
Ambition lifts the soul to strength and power. 
Yet but a moment, and the strong and weak, 
Alike, must close their eyes in endless sleep. 

Give me thy hand, my brother, while we may, 
Let us rejoice that we have met to note 
The kindred spark that fills thy breast and mine — 
Who knows, how soon we'll part forevermore? 

Though science preach that but the fit survive, 
The strong must drive the weaker to the wall, 
That some elect shall shine like gorgeous stars, 
And the great multitude in darkness pass. 

Let it suffice that we were born to live, 
White, black, and yellow, of all various faiths, 
Of mental heights, or deep in ignorance steeped, — 
We're human all, whatever our degree. 

Though competition be the life of trade, 
Combat, unceasing, watchvi^rd of our life, 
And progress based upon the forward stride 
Of selfish strength, that others leave behind — 



54 



Yet still, with learning, science, art, and skill, 
And mental gifts to soar above the crowd. 
With wealth and pride, what matter they forsooth? 
All who were born to live, are born to die! 
1900 

AT MIDNIGHT 

Over the peaceful waters 
Float the sounds of the midnight bell, 
Like the voices of spirits echoed, 
Celestial, its musical spell. 

Solemn and calm, as a token, 
The death of another day — 
A signal to life's weary pilgrims, 
Of time that passeth away. 

Day and night, and their burden, 
Their joy and their manifold care. 
Forgotten in changes eternal, — 
A wish, a brief sigh and a pray'r. 

We've been, — and we are not — an atom 
On the restless ocean of life, 
Tossed by the unebbing current. 
Creatures of pitiless strife. 

Patience and toil, brave endeavor. 
Honest endurance and faith: — 
Hope, like a beacon of heaven, 
Chance, — a terrestrial wraith. 

What is an age? what, a thousand? 
Sunlight and darkness succeed. 
E'en like one pulse-beat another, 
Races and nations and creed. 



55 



Children are born and bear sires; 
What is a life's barren yield? 
Onward to sink into Lethe — 
Grains drop on fate's fatal field. 

Works that endure? — ask the seeming 
Quenchless star in the sky: 
Dead — though its rays fall for aeons, 
Bright, on the wondering eye. 

Riches, and fame, and honors? 
Names 'luming history's page? — 
Buddhas and Platos were many, — 
Nirvana claims seer and sage. 

But for the present, the era. 
Children of men, can you zeal, 
For, of the future, no sibyl. 
What is to be, can reveal. 

Records of ancient convulsions, 
Rocky, and speechless, and cold ; 
Though eternity's bell toll a requiem- 
Youthful this earth is, and old. 

Over the peaceful waters 
Float the sounds of the midnight-bell : 
A greeting, a warning, a summons — 
Creation — oblivion its knell. 
1896 

ONLY FOR A DAY 

Wreathe the laurel for the victor. 
Mingling roses with the bay. 
Crown his brow, for he has vanquished- 
Clio whispers: — "for a day." 

56 



Bring the harp, its strains inspired 
Shall enchant thee with a lay, 

That some mighty poet chanteth — 
Fashion hath it: — "for a day." 

Clasp thy loved one to thy bosom, 
Let thy heart its homage pay, 

Breathing, softly, true devotion — 
Eros murmurs: — "for a day." 

Hark, the thundrous words of warning 
Fill the soul with awe-full sway; 

Mercy crave repentant sinners — 
Sighing saints weep: — "for a day." 

Fame and faith, and love and fancy. 
Life and light — how brief their stay. 

Man beholdeth, man enjoyeth — 
God so wills it — "for a day." 

1899 

DREAMING, DREAMING 

Dreaming, Dreaming 
Of the days that ne'er shall be. 

Hoping, hoping 
For the ship from o'er the sea. 

Trusting, trusting 
In the gift of strength and mind. 

Toiling, toiling 
With the zeal of humankind. 

Drifting, drifting 
On the ebbing stream of life. 



57 



Sighing, sighing 
At the endless waste and strife. 

Yearning, yearning 
For the rest that waits for all. 

Sleeping, sleeping 
At the Maker's gentle call. 
1901 

THE MUSIC OF THE STARS 

God's golden notes are writ athwart the sky 

On Hope's own page of deep, eternal peace; 

Nor wait they, mutely, the great Master's touch 

To burst in echoing melody through space — 

Endless as Time, th' unending Universe, — 

For to the soul, whose lonely yearning soars 

Beyond the bounds of toil, of fell disease. 

Of mortal weakness and of crushing care, 

Immortal music fills the silent sphere 

With rapturous sweetness, wafting calm serene. 

What symphony majestic breathe the rays 
In sparkling splendor, born of countless orbs. 
Unheard, yet drunk by more than sensual ear 
In ecstasy of spirit, sanctified 
With thought removed afar this fateful globe. 
And all its human frailty and its woes! 

Hushed is the strife and healed the wound of war. 
From envy's baneful blight the heart absolved, 
Stilled e'en the struggle for this earthliness, 
'Mid wondrous tunes that sing, sublimely grand, 
Th' undying song of immortality — 
Divine perfection, the Creator's love. 
Dawning but dimly on man's awe-filled sense, 
A faint reflection of the unrevealed. 
58 



What anthems swell from out th' encircling vault, 
Bounded by mortal eye, yet boundless as the 

Thought 
That bid it be, and be forevermore. 
And million — million years of universal life, 
Of being by the Word, and having been. 
And being still, th' Almighty Will of God ! 

Aeons and worlds, Creation's graspless maze, 
Endless to human calculation, but a glance, 
A breath of Him who was, and ever is, 
Whose Voice called forth what is and e'er will be, 
Whose Will exalted sways the Universe 
And bids His Work Eternity proclaim. 

What insignificance these human discords yield ; 
What motes, the turmoils on this mundane sphere; 
What bubbles on th' unf athomed sea of Time : — 
Earthquakes and floods, and strife of race and faith ! 
When silent music from a myriad worlds, 
Uncomprehended in sublimity. 
Enfolds the soul in deepest depth of peace, 
God's radiant notes in heavenly harmony. 
1900 

MIDNIGHT— "ONE DAY LESS" 

One day less to spend in watching 
O'er the cherished little flock. 
One day less to note their growing, 
Slow, the bell strikes twelve o'clock. 

One day less of toil and worry, 
Anxious of to-morrow's care. 
One day less of hope and sorrow, 
And to God a heartfelt pray'r. 



59 



One day less — the moments swiftly 
Glide their stern eternal course. 
One day less — we crave the future, 
Brightly pictured on it soars. 

One day less — the fleeting phantoms, 
Gain and comfort quickly fade. 
One day less — O hopeful mortal, 
E'en ambition lowly laid. 

One day less — the goal approaching, 
Care and worry pass away. 
One day less — no fight unceasing 
Is thy lot, O frame of clay. 

One day less — how soon, unnoticed, 
Will the world its course pursue ! 
One day less — a little patience — 
Then eternal sleep for you. 

One day less of pain and suffering; 
One day less of power and fame ; 
One day less of love devoted — 
Tide fast ebbing whence it came. 
igcK) 

ENVY 

Thy cursed mutterings make the heart unhappy; 
Thy venomed sting strikes hatred in the mind; 
Thou hybrid monster, with thy red eyes burning 
And feasting on the soul of humankind. 

The shallow dullard breathes thy breath seducing, 
From plain contentment becks thy devilish grin ; 
Distorted pictures shows thy lying mirror, — 
Voluptuous ease, — but hides the worm within. 

60 



The cultured list thy subtle treacherous whisper, 
They crave thy coward stab at wealth and fame, 
While learning stumbles and achievement dwindles, 
And honor drags its purity in shame. 

Thou mov'st the tongue to calumny and slander. 
For outward dross corrupt'st the virtuous heart, 
And changest glibly, with unblushing features, 
The gold of truth for worthless sham and art. 

Thou brood of hell that, with infernal passion, 
Sprang'st from hypocrisy's unholy lust. 
And gloatest and gnawst, with hideous satisfaction. 
On man, thy prey, progenitor of dust. 

Not e'en the grave can ban thy fetid vaporing; 
Defenseless death thy silence cannot claim, — 
With ghoulish claw thou tear'st the veil of memory ; 
With impious glee thou soil'st the honored name. 
1901 

JEALOUSY 

Sister to madness, who torment'st thy soul 
With vain imaginings, lest thy heart have peace; 
Self-scourged with nipping thoughts that, heed- 
less, weave 
Suspicion's web, and fettered fears release. 

Falsely thou claim'st love's kinship — Love is trust, 
Divine its birthplace — thine, the chilling cave 
Of foggy doubt, — for thou shun'st heaven's light. 
And stealest, darkly, from affection's grave. 

Man is not perfect, yet thou wouldst create 
A creature Satan might, exultant, claim 
His earthborn image; thus thy poisoned mind 
Looks through perverted eyes and conjures shame. 
1901 

61 



AVARICE 

Cowering, thou sitt'st with white lips thinly span- 
ning 
Thy hollow cheeks, whose ashen hue is death. 
Suspicion drink thine ears, acutely listening, 
For lurking fear instils the guileless breath. 

Compressed, thine eyelids, whence the fretful glances 
Of trustless pupils dart uncertain rays 
Of stony coldness, freezing, like Medusa's, 
The hapless mortals chancing in their gaze. 

Deaf is thy sense to suffering and misfortune; 
Mute is thy voice at pain's tormenting cry; 
Tearless, thine eyes heed not the orphan's weeping; 
Rigid, thy features, at the widow's sigh. 

Thy words grate harshly, like the hail-stones beat- 
ing 
Their icy death on buds of trustful spring; 
Or like the blast that scatters from the casement 
The roses that, in hopeful beauty, cling. 

Thy spider-fingers grasp with famished trembling 
The petty idol which thy breast adores, 
Whose barren heart coimts, as it slowly pulseth. 
The vain possessions reckless fortune stores. 

Sweet music to thee is the hollow jingling 
Of paltry coins that chance strews in thy way, 
Gleaned from this earth that, mocking, will re-echo 
Their sound, when tumbling on thy worthless clay. 
1 901 



62 



QUIEN SABE? 

What Is it all? — a smile, a hope, a tear; 
Some joy and some sorrow sown, scattered, be- 
tween — 
Helpless in-ushered, — helpless delivered, — 
A struggle for space and a flitting unseen. 

Quibbles and combats, faith-guided, despairing, 
A whence and a whither, none dare to essay. 
A breath on the ocean of time that rolls ever. 
Unending and tideless, from day unto day. 

What is it all? — ask the flower that bloometh. 
The insect, that wingeth its brief, pathless flight — 
Budding and breathing, breathing and dying. 
Trusting, or trustless, — day followed by night. 
I goo 

RESEMBLANCE 

Man oft is martyr to his memory. 
O calmed mind tortured on the pyre of thought. 
And heart tormented when, undreamt, unsought. 
Death's prey by life is imaged! Agony 

Dwells on the arched lines of beauty's brow, 
And living lips mock all the tomb hath sealed 
With time's insensate clay. — Once more, revealed. 
Eyes snatch their speech, and cruelly endow 

Life's soulful features from the grave's dull stare. 
And paint with memory's brush the blanched cheek — 
The earth-worm's revel ; — deck, in radiance rare, 
The charge of Azrael, bidding mute lips speak: — 
"From shrouded regions, hollow-eyed despair 
Averts the strong, with madness smites the weak." 
1902 

63 



AD ASTRA? 

Earth, sun, and stars thou fathom'st, and, elate. 
Thou dwell'st the thought-companion of thy sire. 
The cave-bear's tenant, ere Promethean fire 
Convulsed Olympus 'gainst the reprobate. 

Deeper and deeper still, to penetrate 
The secrets of dead ages, thy desire. 
But, with soul-trembling, to behold expire 
A race of theories sprung from high estate. 

Ah, seest thou not Jehovah's faith-reared throne 
Loom vague on ruins that held Zeus and Phra? — 
Circled by home-sick ravens, woe-begone, 
Kung-fut-se and Buddha, mute in speechless awe, 
And the meek Christ, in prayer upon his knees. 
Humbly, before eternal mysteries. 
1906 



MORS PALLIDA 

Mysterious lord of absolute domain — 

Whose realm looms vague beyond a sea of tears, 

Upon whose borders, more than mortal pain 

Vents voiceless anguish ; — trembling hopes and fears 

In vain would grasp thee, who, wild fancy's flight, 

Spurn'st irom thy threshold, where existence bows, 

Meekly submissive to thy will sublime. 

That bids descend the dismal shades of night 

O'er life, — brief offspring of ephemeral vows 

Light breathes unconscious in the ear of time. 



64 



Why do men fear thee, who art passing just? 

Saying nay to the mightiest, nought but nay, 

To helpless sucklings, to unfathomed trust 

Faith may instil, as to the worm, whose day 

In sightless struggle stirs dumb grains of sand. 

Yet shrinks thy presence, e'en as wisdom quails, 

Guideless and palsied, at thine only word. 

That hushes thought and mutes supreme command 

Into imperishable silence, pales 

The flush of being with its tones unheard. 

When men saw gods with elemental eye 
In ocean wastes, in fire, storm, and cloud. 
When rustling woods were oracles, and high 
On misty summit dwelt a merry crowd 
Of deities, delight of human mind, — 
Thou earnest, a smiling youth, on wings of air. 
Bearing thy message, and, with unseen hand, 
Led'st forth thy choice, nor wert thou deemed un- 
kind, 
Nor did men shun thee, hopeless, or despair 
Of their winged journey to the nether land. 

Imaged of creaking bone and orbless stare, 
Scythe-bearing, stol'st thou through the age of faith. 
When dreams were mighty, and the midnight glare 
Shot heavenly warnings, fitful boreal wraith, 
Of wars and horror; thou did'st cut a swath, 
World-wide with carnage, pestilence, and plague. 
Gloating thou stood'st beside the gloomy pyre, 
Which superstition clawed from every path 
Where reason fled, and pitying hearts did ache, 
That deemed thee harvester for Satan's fire. 



65 



The world hath changed, yet, still, all creatures 

dread 
Thine icy presence, thine unechoed call, 
That chills life's stream, and, to their dreamless bed. 
Consigns thought, action, pleasure, suffering, all. 
Nurtured of being, thou dost grow apace, 
The waxing shadow of each earthly day. 
To hound thy quarry with unceasing lust. 
Crowding its progress with e'er lessening space, — 
Till life succumbs to fate's unequal fray, 
And thou hast conquered, and thy prey is dust. 



66 



NATURE 



DAYBREAK 

Night veils deep comforts in her silent breast — 
Dreams and oblivion, starlight's calm and peace, 
Shadows and coolness, for the weary, rest — 
But death is darkness, and life's wonders cease 
Their charmed appealing to the eye and ear. 
E'en when fair Luna glides her silvered course. — 
High noon is gorgeous in her loud display. 
Yet dazzling splendors sear — 
Dewless droop leaf and blade while songsters pause. 
And sad-eyed twilight weeps for dying day. 

Perfect alone, in beauty, smiles sweet mom. 
Hope's fairest blossoms wreathe her virgin brow, 
Breathing rare incense over hearts forlorn. 
And magic sustenance, though the Fates endow 
Life's leaden hours with more enduring reign ; 
Her gentle influence soothes grim-faced despair, 
And, innocent, she guides from dismal gloom 
Doubt's dreary flight, and pain 
Grows dulled, as her creative charm, like pray'r, 
Breaks the dark seal from faith's ephemeral tomb. 

Lone, orphaned shadows in enshrouded vales, 

Lingering, dissevered, from night's sable robe, 

Tremble, affrighted, while the azure pales 

Afar, where dawn wooes soft th' awakening globe. 

With modest smile, and banishes strange dreams — 

Joys unsubstantial, sorrow's speechless woe — 

That flitted, phantom, through the realm of sleep; 

Transformed with happier gleams 

Of life and beauty, morn spreads forth aglow 

Her jeweled wealth in silent circling sweep. 



69 



Ruby and sapphire line th' renascent east, 
Dipping their splendor in the cool sea-waves, 
Charmed to meek quietude, their wrath appeast, 
'Neath placid count'nance, in deep-bosomed caves. 
And spires uplifted, piercing vanquished haze, 
Responsive flame to day's great golden eye, 
Rising, omniscient, in eternal pow'r, 
Whose light is life, ablaze 
With promise of unnumbered springs, the sky 
Divinely pure in nature's holiest hour. 

Bird-notes lie budding in the fragrant wood ; 
Robin and thrush intone their dulcet lays 
'Mid bosquets green, and, heavenward borne, a flood 
Of marv'lous music pours the lark, in praise, 
Melodious joy from bliss-enraptured throat. 
Were care a fable, mythic, sorrows keen. 
Could Flora's children peep more fair arrayed, 
Or music's spirit float 

More tranquil, soothing, on its wings unseen. 
To nest in hearts, alike from sky and glade? 
1 901 

TO A ROBIN 

O happy spirit of the summer air, 
That flood'st with melody the sunlit day, — 
Life's very essence, burst from gladness rare — 
Soothing sore hearts with thine entrancing lay. 
Waking, soft echoed, childhood's vanished hour, 
With wizard notes thou weav'st ethereal dreams 
Of golden ray, rose cloud, and zephyr's breath. 
A wonderland, create of music's pow'r. 
Floats on thy voice, and, in its spirit-beams, 
Folds the freed soul, unstung by flitting death. 



70 



Thou dwellest 'mid the swaying boughs on high, 

Afar from care's sod-clinging, sad domain; 

And, with their realm th' illimitable sky. 

What heed thy pinions fate's earth-binding chain? 

Thy sustenance is scattered at thy feet. 

And toil thou know'st not, save when, light of 

heart, 
Thou gather'st wind-blown offerings for thy nest, 
And, ever joyful, pour'st thanksgiving sweet 
For nature's bounty, with consummate art, 
Serene and modest, from thy grateful breast. 
1901 

THE SEASONS 

Gentle showers; peeping flowers; 
Verdant meadows; budding trees. 
Sunlight bringing songsters singing. 
Softened azure, fragrant breeze. 

Youthful, the spirit bom of the spring-time; 
Modest, the smile that enchanteth the heart. 
Bright as the dew, at the daybreak, that glistens. 
Visions and hopes, dreaming, guileless, their art. 

Golden glowing; radiance, sowing 
Sunny pastures; leafy shade. 
Wealth of pleasure, nature's treasure. 
Gorgeous color, bright arrayed. 

Deep is the spirit of living summer; 
Warm, the affection its drowsiness binds. 
Flashing, the glances, as lightning that dances 
Fitful along the horizon, and blinds. 



71 



Ceaseless longing; memories thronging; 
Tone of sadness; fading leaves. 
Light unheating; night repeating 
Starry splendor; vigorous eves. 

Sad is the spirit of warning autumn ; 
Spectre of brilliancy, mournful its glow; 
Chilling the hopes that ambition had kindled. 
Born of the seeds, that the heart dared to sow. 

Desolate reaches; barren beaches 
On the frigid shores of Time. 
White and cheerless, cold and tearless, 
Soulless branch and rigid clime. 

Frosty, the spirit that bleak winter beareth, 
Blasted and dismal, the emblem of dearth. 
Roaring with tempests and wrapping, enshrouding, 
Cloak of oblivion o'er passionless earth. 
1900 

NIAGARA 

Sublime Niagara! Could thy glory find 
But human pen to plant thee in man's soul 
With words thine image! — Ah, one only hand — 
But that has withered with the poet blind 
Who sang of our first parents — could extol 
Thy marvels fitly; — and yon demon-band 
That rage thy rapids fearfully and grind 
Man's heart in awful whirlpool! — their control 
None might depicture, save the gravely-grand 
Dead bard who, sad-faced, trod the Stygian land. 

O thunderous voice that drown'st with solemn roar 
The clamorous turbulence of maddened waves, 
Unleashed and desperate for resistless leap 
O'er time-yoked rocks, where ghostly mist doth 
soar^ 

72 



A hovering spirit from Titanic caves, 
Gnawed by thy ceaseless hunger — w^hile, in sweep, 
White as stern winter, lashed by raging Thor, 
Hastes thy deep current, Time hath craved and 

craves 
Vain with its granite chains enslaved to keep, 
Since Nature roused from elemental sleep. 

O, dost thou sing the red-man's deathless dirge? 
Who came to worship at thy shrine sublime. 
When pale-faced greed and cunning dwelt afar; 
Great Spirit, whose defiant torrents surge 
From Earth's beginning to its end of time! 
Lit by the new-born moon and day's one star, 
When frail canoe bore to thy fearful verge 
A death-kissed maiden, while, in mournful rhyme, 
Pleading for plenteous peace, victorious war, — 
The death-chant floated weird from shory bar. 

Or doth Jehovah speak his thought through thee? 
To fill with wondrous awe dull mortal ear. 
Deafly entranced by thine o'erwhelming voice, 
And roll, majestic in sublimity. 
This cataractine tumult that, in fear, 
Men view thy vastness, yet would fain rejoice 
At Hope's fair rainbow o'er thy milky sea, 
E'en as He showed it to the aged seer, 
Whose bark alone was spared by Godly choice 
When mankind sank beneath its Maker's curse. 

Ah, what is man — who, feebly, dares essay 
To grasp thy grandeur, wrought by Nature's hand. 
Kin to fierce tempest and unbridled deep. 
That smite our foothold in disdainful sway! 
What hopes are wrecked — what plans bestrew the 
strand 



73 



In ruins, as curbless, while men wake or sleep, 
Th' untiring moments, snatched by Time away, 
In pauseless rapids seek yon climax grand 
Where heart-beats stop, and whirling Fate doth 

reap 
What Life hath sown, yet cannot save or keep. 

So rush thou on, in peerless wild career, 
Tumbling vast torrents to th* insatiate sea, 
While Time shall be and man may view thy might; 
Speechless, may drink thy beauty, and be near 
The great, unfathomable mystery. 
That links unconscious morn with shrouded night; 
Till mountains crash and heavenward shall rear 
Chaotic fragments — as, in agony. 
Our Mother-Earth shall groan her final plight. 
And dust insensate mark her erstwhile flight. 
1902 

EARLY SPRING 

The sullen sky is gray with clouds, 

The mist lies on the sea; 
And, chill, the wind blows o'er the waste 

And smites the barren lea. 

The earth is damp with fog and rain; 

The trees are lank and bare; 
And yet a strange, mysterious breath 

Is floating through the air. 

The hoar despoiler 's loath to yield, 

But wondrous powers strive 
To swell the buds on tree and bush. 

And burst death into life. 



74 



The sun his lengthening course pursues 

And rouses slumbering day 
To earlier toil, his summons beams 

With each increasing ray. 

The birds are on their northward flight, 
Their notes hie on the breeze; 

They bid the playful waves defy 
The blast that made them freeze. 

The heralds are a-wing, afloat, 

And spring is their device, 
Whose smile, triumphant over death, 

Melts winter's heart of ice. 
1901 

SPRING 

In praise of Spring, 

Awakening 

The world from frosty sleep; 

With joy we hail 

The snowdrops frail. 

That from some shelter peep. 

Again to live. 

And thanks to give 

For bud and blade and tree; 

From death restored. 

To touch a chord 

Within our soul, with glee. 

Ah, magic time, 

When songs can climb 

Empyreal heights, nor pause. 

When love anew, 

With nought to rue. 

To heaven in rapture soars. 

75 



I900 



Should Ceres fail, 

Of no avail 

Might be Apollo's string. 

And Venus' smile 

Could none beguile, 

But for the birth of Spring. 

THE BROOK 

Silently, pure. 
Clear, undefiled, 
Strong in its weakness, 
Nature's sweet child. 

Murmuring, gently. 
Pebbles among, 
Kissing green mosses. 
Woodland's fair song. 

Cleaving the granite. 
Turbulent spray; 
Youth's lusty vigor 
Ready for fray. 

Gathering, bravely. 
Rills to its side — 
Rushing wild torrent, 
Hindrance defied. 

Waxing in wisdom. 
Slowing its pace; 
Deeper and broader. 

Majestic it sways. 

Bearing its burden, 
Dimmer its flow; 
Vain to discover 
Surface below. 
76 



I goo 



Sweeping, wide-reaching, 
Sullen and grand, 
Cheerless, disdainful, 
Stubborn its stand. 

Aged, white-crested, — 
Slow to its goal, 
Yielding to billows. 
Reluctant, its soul. 

Cleansed of defilement 
In ocean's embrace. 
Lost, and yet present 
Eternal, in space. 

Child of fair nature 
Rest in her sea, 
Immortal, unending. 
Unfettered and free! 



IN JUNE 



A cloudless sky; with fragrance laden 
The air of June, and Sunday-rest. 
My child beside me, bearing blossoms, 
And golden sunlight in the west. 

A robin's note to heaven ascending; 
A brooklet babbling in the dell ; 
And, from the distance, gently blending 
Its silvery voice, the vesper bell. 

O perfect world! Thy creatures blessing 
With sweet composure's priceless balm ; 
O'er restless spirits softly shedding 
In beauty, deep, religious calm. 



77 



O Sunday-Stillness! Nature spreading 
Her loveliest gifts to weary hearts: 
A radiant day, mild peace, fair flowers, 
And music, ere thy charm departs. 
1900 

JUNE TWILIGHT IN TOWN 

The children singing "London Bridge;" 
The sparrows' chirp among the trees; 
Afar, the rumbling of a train; 
A steamboat's whistle on the breeze. 

The hurried homeward strides of men. 
At last from daily drudgery free. 
In twilight's cooling air, sufiEused 
With wafted breath from distant lea. 

More sweet endows eve's gathering shade 

Th' unfolding rose, a rare old tune. 

The honeysuckle's lavish wealth. 

And hearts grown light in wondrous June. 

1 901 



NIGHT IN JUNE 

On the waters glistening. 
Silvering leaf and blade, 
Shedding dreamy splendor 
O'er the silent glade. 
In the peaceful heavens 
Sails the orb of night, 
'Mid the glittering myriad. 
Golden points of light. 



78 



1896 



Dewy blossoms, nodding, 
In their breeze-fanned sleep, 
Jessamine and roses — 
Snow and blushes deep. 
Hedges green, and giants. 
Reared by nature's care. 
Fostered by her bounty, 
Drink the balmy air. 

Emerald swords, the rushes, 
Guard the tranquil shore. 
Laved by cooling ripples, 
Gently wafted o'er. 
Silver stars, the lilies. 
Beam with golden eyes. 
Pour their sweetest fragrance 
From the mirrored skies. 

Silence, dreamy stillness, 
Perfume, peace and rest — 
Nature's gentle offering. 
Bounteous, beauty-blest. 
Sighing branches, swaying 
In harmonious tune. 
Lisping sounds of zephyrs — 
Heavenly night in June. 



SONG 



Lonely, the moon my companion, 
I stroll by the reed-bordered lake. 
Rustling, the trees, their weird music; 
Elves, all-enraptured, awake. 



79 



Dancing, fantastic and graceful, 

Silvery their slender forms sway. 
Over the waters come gliding 
Nymphs fair, in splashing array 

Past the dark branches a-flitting, 
A spirit, the whip-poor-will's note — 
Dream of the dreamland of fancy, 
My soul, like a phantom, afloat. 

Drowsily, fragrant blossoms. 
Crimson, and lilies of white 
Hearken the strains that, enchanting. 
Summer breathes sweetly o'er night. 
1900 

DAYLIGHT AND STARLIGHT 

When waning day ascends the mountain-top 
And leaves the imprints of her rosy feet, 
The sealed lids from curious star-eyes drop 
And golden glances seek the monarch fleet. 
But mother night spreads out her dusky cloak 
And bids her children modestly to beam, 
And, lest they fear, she lights with magic stroke 
Her silver fentern in the milky stream. 

Yet, yearning still, the little eyes are ope 

To greet, at dawn, the queen that traceless sped. 

With ceaseless longing and undying hope. 

Year in, year out, by vain desire led. 

For, when pure day steps from the flaming sea, 

Her dazzling splendor blinds the timid orbs; 

Their sheltering lids must close unwillingly. 

And lingering shades her radiant glance absorbs. 



80 



Thus vain the yearning of ambitious men 
To grasp the brilliance of supremer mind, 
Too late their wakening and too slow their- ken, 
With eyes unused to dazzling gifts that blind. 
Perchance, in twilight's haze to feebly shine, 
Their fate, or, modest, beam through narrowed 

night. 
With faint illuming, since the touch divine 
Denied them, vain they crave creation's might. 
1 901 

THE OCEAN 

At Newport 

O raging sea, in flaky showers breaking 
Upon the rocks! — O vast, unfettered soul! — 
Whose crowding currents surge from pole to, pole, 
Augmenting, threatening, trembling, pausing, slak- 
ing. 

Creatures of chance, thine own majestic waves, — 
Some roll superbly to the further shore; 
Some yield their strength on granite spurs before. 
And feebly their embrace grim bowlders laves. 

O restless spirit, doomed to toss and surge. 
Marking the pulse-beats of immortal time; 
In ever-changing aspect bearing 
Thy countenance, — thou roar'st a constant dirge 
For all thy victims, seized in every clime, 
With ravenous greed, insatiate and unsparing. 
1886 



81 



FAREWELL TO THE MOUNTAINS 

Farewell, unrivalled hills, 
With all your sparkling rills, 
Whose ceaseles mirth 
Gave gladsome birth 
To golden moments and to bubbling thought. 

Farewell, inviolate peaks, 
Where light inconstant seeks 
Its fitful moods to show — 
Gray mist and brilliant glow. 
Move not your sturdy heart of granite wrought. 

Farewell, ye legioned trees, 
Whose myriad leaves release 
Life's breath to quickened air, 
And fill with essence rare 
The craving lung and stir life's ruby stream. 

Farewell, ye boundless skies, 
With all your golden eyes, 
Undimmed by smoky haze. 
In glistening radiance gaze 
On scenes unshorn by greed's defiling scheme. 

Farewell, sweet nature pure, 
That, fearless, canst endure 
The serpent-lightning's flash. 
The rending thunder's crash. 
The grasping freshet and the cloudburst's roar. 

Farewell, — but not for aye — 
I hail the unborn day. 
When, free and unrestrained. 
From town and toil unchained, 
O'er cumbrous care my soul again shall soar. 
1 901 

82 



SUNSET 

Sunset — Mild zephyrs woo the yearning boughs, 
Sweetened with song from elm and purpling copse, 
Rustling, inimitably soft, their vows, 
Cooling still dales and pearl-veiled mountain-tops. 

A lonely cloud lies dreaming o'er the haze, 
Floating, in silence, smiles and tears above. 
Light as the soul escaped life's torturous maze. 
Earth's soil-sprung offspring clasped by heaven's 
love. 

Dazzling, descending Phoebus flames his way, 
Golden god-monarch of the blazing car. 
Beckoning chaste Dian's virgin, silvered sway. 
Crowning the west with Love's fair evening star. 
1901 



83 



PERSONAL AND EMOTIONAL 



REMEMBRANCE 

Across the sea, across the ebbing tide 

Of years, a happy, happy home I see: 

Fond parents, a babe, and, at his mother's knee, 

A little boy, red-cheeked, and dreamy-eyed. 

O happy home ! fond love ! — O hope denied ! — 
Unbidden came a guest, and mute was he 
To pray'rs and tears, and wrested ruthlessly 
The noblest mother from her loved ones' side. 

My mother! Time's receding tide has borne 
Thy dear voice far beyond my longing ear, 
Thine image faded, but still, unforlorn. 
Thy love abides with me, and ever near 
Thy blessing has been lingering, since the night 
When heav'n disclosed its beauty to thy sight. 
1911 

RESURRECTION 

Though thou art dead, yet is my thought thy tomb, 
Whence dreams arise to give thee life, forsooth, 
In wondrous resurrection of thy youth. 
With all its hopes and strivings — through the gloom 

Of orphaned years, and blot the silent urn 
From anguished memory. — I again behold 
The hearty man, with courage firm and bold. 
On life's rough journey, with deep learning earn 

The grudged reward to sacrifice that stands 
By man in sore distress; that heals the wound 
Of combat, and, with wise and patient skill. 
Wards of? the foe that knocks with fleshless hands. 
O faithful father! — in thy love I found 
Life's burdens lifted, healed its every ill. 
1911 

87 



TO MY WIFE 

Upon me rests the magic of thine eyes 
In dreamy splendor, for their sparkling light 
Bedims the stars of silent winter-night, 
That steeped thy tresses in its ebon guise. 

Upon thy velvet cheeks the warm blush hies 
From envious rosebuds, and the soft delight 
Of cloudless climes endows thy features bright 
With sunlit tint of blissful paradise. 

The lark its silver notes bestowed on thee — 
Thy voice melodious charmed my yearning soul 
And lulled our babes with gentle lullaby. 
O, may thy sunny spirit e'er control 
Our destiny, and thou, with counsel wise, 
Give me, dear love, the guidance of thine eyes! 
1911 



WANDERLUST 

To H. N. K. 

O restless roamer! — hath no charm for thee 
The peace of home, the warm, inviting hearth? 
That thou must wander, nomad-like, on earth, 
A bird of passage, wilful-winged, and free! 

What strange ancestral power may it be 
That drives thee on — from sober toil and mirth, 
To spurn thy home, the city of thy birth, 
And e'en thy parents' sheltering roof fo flee? 



O Wanderlust! — through generations thrives 
Thine elemental strain, and heedless roam 
The knights of brush, of song, and minstrelsy! 
World-wisdom marks the sphere for normal lives, 
But to the artist all the world is home, — 
And in our thoughts, dear son, we roam with thee. 
1911 

TO MY DAUGHTER 

Like snowy blossom warmed by morn in May, 
A little face, — illumed by lustrous eyes, 
So innocent, yet twinkling, strangely-wise — 
Enframed in raven floss, soft-pillowed lay. 

Our home's own sunshine, — ever bright and gay 
With happy baby-talk, as oft she tries 
To stand, — but falls, — yet laughs, — at last to rise 
On tiny feet, and run the livelong day. 

O dearest Helen ! how those memories cheer 
These sober hours, when I see thee stand, — 
My little maid, with features, fair and clear. 
And those dark eyes, become a lady grand, — 
Whose love, whose joyful spirit, and whose smile 
Bid time to pause for me, and rest awhile. 
1911 

TO MY SON EDGAR 

Indifferent thousands flitted past, nor tried 
To leave an impress on my ardent mind ; 
But some, with souls responsive, strove to find 
Their way into my heart, and there abide. 

Yet treasured most, those who, by blood allied. 
Are kin to me, and to my trust consigned. — 
O'er them my love shall watch, and firmly bind 
The bonds by fate, by chance, or nature tied. 
89 



O thou, my son, who always hast been true 
To thine own self, as thou wast true to me ; 
With love and kindness striving e'er to do 
A good son's part, e'en from thine infancy. 
The kindred spark, that ties — I find in thee — 
Thy soul to mine for all eternity. 
1911 

JUNE CHILD 

When to their highest goal the steeds of Phoebus 

rose 
And poured their quick'ning fire on craving earth, 
An infant soul, athirst for mortal birth, 
In our baby-boy its human dwelling chose. 

Sweet June caressed the babe with sunniest smile; 
She bathed his tiny form in fragrant spray. 
And, showering rosy petals where he lay. 
She bade soft-zephyrs nurse his sleep the while. 

O black-eyed boy! bright be thy destiny! 
Who lov'st fair nature with receptive heart. 
May climaxed Phoebus, ever spurring thee, 
In science guide thee, and inspire in art. 
For thee, rare June her loveliest roses twine. 
Her spirit pure, breathe gently over thine. 
1911 

TO MY SISTER 

One home once knew us. — In our childhood's day 
We shared the joys, the sorrows, as they came 
Into our lives, and e'er the holy flame 
Of love burned brightly, lit by kinship's ray. 



90 



We're severed now — divergent runs the way 
In life's stern duties; — but our parents' name 
Will link us ever, mutual interest claim, 
While God permits our lessening earthly stay. 

Dear Helen ! — well I know that, though apart 
Through life we wander, and oft void and cold 
The world may seem, yet warm, in faithful heart 
Still lives the spark which lit those days of old. 
Our joys quench not the flame of long ago ; 
Our sorrows fan it but to brighter glow. 
1911 

GUIDANCE 

To Edgar 

'Tis coward fear that makes men slaves to power, 
That bids them kneel to idols, mean and base, 
Or join in clamorous turbulence, to raise 
Mad mob-rule's standard for its one brief hour. 

Some envy lures, and many victims cower 
Before glib tongue; — with smiling, unguent ways 
The hjqjocrite o'er mindless mortals sways; 
E'en sober judgment may design devour. 

Do what is right and fear no mortal foe! 
But 'ware deceit; trust not the winning smile. 
And, if the evil challenge, fearless go 
And falsehood smite, and crush designing guile! 
As I have known thee, so the world shall know 
That thou art true, and can'st give blow for blow. 
1911 



91 



WOMAN'S SPHERE 

To My Daughter Helen 

Fair is the maid whom nature kindly gave 
The gentle smile, her modest maiden-way, 
Sweet grace, a heart awake to noble sway 
In deeds of kindness, e'er alert and brave. 

To man abhorrent, strides, with wrinkles grave. 
The new man-woman, — poring, night and day. 
O'er learned volumes, to assert her say. 
By intellectual force make man her slave. 

My child ! let nature be thy loving guide, 
Through life's ordeals she will lead thee wise; 
And ask thy heart its counsel to provide. 
If doubts becloud, the world deceive thine eyes. 
Man's proper sphere, and woman's were reveal'd 
By God's own laws, which nature stamp'd and 
seal'd. 
1911 

TO SADIE C. 

Maiden, whose gentle smile 
Lendeth me peace; 
In thy sweet presence 
Sorrow must cease. 

Maiden, thy dreamy eyes. 
Winning my heart, 
Seem to say softly: 
"Ne'er shall we part." 

Maiden, thine image fair 
Lives in my dreams. — 
All past afflictions 
Thy being redeems. 



1886 



92 



TO S. C. 

Think not, — though sadness seems to cast 
O'er many a song its sombre veil, — 
That all my hopes are rent in twain 
And grim despair fore'er must last. 

I still bear faith within my breast; 
A smile may wake the slumbering ray, 
A word from sweet lips bid me trust 
And feel that truth preserves her sway. 

Ah, gladly. Fortune's wealth I'd yield, 

Ambition's zeal, the crown of Fame — 

For one, whose heart could read mine own, 

Whose sympathy my love could claim. 

1886 

"MIZPAH" 

{To Sadie C.) 

We may have met to part again, — 
How soon, and wherefore — who can tell? 
But, were my dearest hope in vain — 
I only know, I wish thee well. 

It is not in man's power to stay 
The hand of stern, relentless fate; 
But were it mine to rule and say — 
Thou ne'er should'st be disconsolate. 

I feel that, near thee, I could brave 

The storms that wreck the strongest heart. — 

But severed — what remains to save? 

Dear child, have we but met to part? 

1886 



93 



NIGHT AND DAY 

(To S. C.) 

I am Night, and love and sadness 
Reign within my yearning breast; 
But its veiling melancholy 
Yieldeth dreams and gentle rest. 

Thou art Day, thy smiles are sunbeams 
Shedding golden radiance 'round; 
Roses bright adorn thy bosom, 
And with joy thy brow is crowned. 

Night and Day must wed, sweet being! 
Mirth must sink to calm repose, 
Gathering strength for new effulgence; 
Light on care its spark bestows. 

Rosy mom and golden twilight 

From their fond embrace will spring. — 

Night and Day, in happy union, 

Forth rare thoughts and joy shall bring. 

1886 

SLUMBER SONG 

To My Little Daughter Helen 

Rest, dear child! May angels, gently, 
Guard thee in thy peaceful sleep, 
And no anxious dreams oppress thee. 
Loving spirits vigil keep. 

Rest, dear child! May glorious visions 
Float around thee, pure and sweet, 
And thy soul, on fancy's pinions, 
All thou lov'st most dearly, greet. 

94 



Rest, dear child! I'm watching by thee. 
Faithful, with a father's care. — 
May the good Lord ever shield thee, 
Guide thee always, maiden fair. 
1895 

MEETING— PARTING 

Meeting: — O golden light 
Streams from the vernal sky; 
Gently, soft zephyrs play: 
Love surely cannot die! 

Parting: — O dismal day; 
Low hangs the sombre cloud; 
Strewing, the moaning wind. 
Dead leaves — Earth's funeral shroud. 

Ways of this changing world, 
Man's proud domain, — 
Lord, he, and slave alike — 
Fate rules the twain. 
1886 

CONSERVATISM 

Two birds met at the close of day 
And sought the self-same place of rest, — 
One from the Orient, far away, 
The other from the youthful West. 

They sang their evening songs and told 
Of all the scenes they loved the best; 
But with the morrow they had to part- 
One came from the East, and one from the West. 

They met, and gladly would have stayed. 
And been a happy, well-matched pair — 
But then, five thousand years ago, 
Their sires sang not the self-same air. 
1886 

95 



MY MOTHER 

I long for the love of my mother, 
The guide of my youthful day; 
The loving mother who kissed me, 
As on her warm bosom I lay. 

Away has she passed, and forever, — 
I see her now only in dreams. 
Her voice soundeth nevermore cheering; 
Her smile on me nevermore beams. 

Alas, like the Spring's tender flowers. 
She sank to a cold, early grave. 
I weep, when the thought comes o'er me 
How kindly my faults she forgave. 

At night, when, thus sad, I am thinking, 
And wishing the dead might return, 
I fancy my mother is sighing. 
The cause of my sorrow to learn. 
1880 

VANISHED 

The door-way is vacant, a spirit is gone. 
The stars and the moon from the heavens are flown. 
And a moment of joy, a brief, fanciful dream 
Has vanished forever in Lethe's dark stream. 

O, beauty endures not, and happiness dies 
Ere the soul to its perfect enjoyment can rise. 
When the sunbeams the realm of the night-born 

invade. 
The sweet rose beginneth to wither and fade. 



96 



So my trust and my hope are shattered and fled ; 
A wraith hovers dim o'er the haunts of the dead. 
A face and a spirit have vanished in gloom — 
Where violet sprang, the pale moonwort shall 
bloom. 
1885 

AT MOONRISE 

When the white moon, slowly rising, 
Veils the earth in spectral glare, 
Then I think of those departed, 
And for them ascends my pray'r. 

For I have not e'er forgotten 

How dear voices cheered my heart. 

How warm hands were clasped in friendship, 

And how soon we had to part. 

Though my old hopes all be vanished. 
And, with them, life's joy and care, — 
When I see the white moon rising, — 
For those gone ascends my pray'r. 
1885 

WHEREFORE? 

The sun shines from the azure sky, 
The birds sing love, the brook goes by. 

Murmuring sweet lullaby. 
And happy, oh, thrice happy am I — 

Wherefore ? Wherefore ? 

The clouds are gloomy the heavens o'er, 
The rain in streams its flood doth pour, 
And sorrow fills my breast once more, 
Oh sad, unspeakably sad am I — 

Wherefore ? Wherefore ? 
1885 

97 



VANITAS 

'Twas but too brief, — a sweet, a fleeting dream, 

Too beautiful to last; 
As heavenly visions to the poet seem, 

A glimpse — forever past. 

An angel veiled, the halo of the blest. 
Its charms too pure for mortal eye; — 

Divine fulfillment of a hope exprest. 
An instant born — to die. 

Ah, Fate! who would attempt to change thy course? 

Vain soarer to the perfect realms of light, 
By passion spurred, then torn by grim remorse; 

Kissed by the sun, to be enrobed in night! 

1885 

THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT 

O, why are you mocking my sorrow? 
I cry to your rolling surge — 
Your answer — monotonous roaring, 
Your solace, — a heartless dirge. 

You come from the earth's furthest regions; 

Your waves bear no message, false sea. 

O, what have you done to my darling? 

You bring him not back to me. 

I've watched you at daybreak, when slumber 
Came not to my weary eyes; 
I've watched you at sunset's fair promise, 
With hope emblazed on the skies. 

You tossed like a creature in anguish. 

Like a soul tormented, O sea; 

But vain were my tears, my beseeching — 

You brought him not back to me. 

98 



I've stood in the moonlight consoling, 
And peered o'er your silvered waste, 
Where weird shapes uncanny seemed dancing 
And flitting in ghostly haste. 

You glittered and sparkled deceptive; 

You moaned and you laughed, as in glee. 

My heart broke with vain supplication — 

You brought him not back to me. 

When winter's fierce tempests were howling, 

I fled not the gale or snow; 

In hurricane's shrieking and terror 

I stood alone with my woe. 

You thundered enraged, and threatening 

You roared, O merciless sea; 

But with all your fury and dashing 

You brought him not back to me. 

1901 



99 



EVERYDAY VERSE 



SATAN'S COMMENTS 
ON WARS, STRIKES, LOCKOUTS, ETC. 

"When men fall out and can't agree. 
Thrice hailed the glorious chance for me! 
I light the fires of spite and hate; 
I loose the tongues to boast and prate ; 
To stubbornness I goad the mule; 
I prick the brains of knave and fool." 

"When men fall out for greedy fight, 

pleasure mine! O rare delight! 
My turn to harvest many a soul 
Whose better nature lost control. 
Mine allies kind, ye passions fierce. 

Be thanked for bursts that cut and pierce." 

"When men fall out and won't give in 
How rich my dragnet proves in sin ! 

1 turn my nose at pseudo proof ; 
On man's pretension set my hoof; 
I snap my fingers in their face 
Who man's development would trace." 

"When men fall out and get apart, 

triumph mine o'er trustful heart! 

1 strangle gasping common-sense; 

I thrust my fork through faith intense; 
And, from my blazing judgment seat, 
I vote concession but a cheat." 

"When men fall out, I laugh in glee; 
With keenest pleasure suffering see 
The wretched beings, who have no share 
In quarrels, meek their burdens bear. 
I saddle troubles on their back. 
Their lives with care and pain attack." 



103 



"When men fall out, then wildly rage 
My fiercest hell-hounds on the stage, 
Where some, with mock-heroic mien, 
And some, with comic mask, are seen ; 
While blank amazement, as a rule, 
Betokes the great unthinking school. 

"When men fall out and angels sigh. 
While virtues crushed to heaven cry, 
I enter on triumphant sway 
And lead my host in brave array. 
With envy, rancor, wrath, and strife 
I prove the vanity of life." 
1903 

THE ROAD TO SUCCESS FOR THE 
MODERN POET 

Shun simplicity; 

Woo duplicity; 
Twist and invert to thy heart's content. 

Speak enigmatical ; 

Seem problematical ; 
Leave it to wisdom a key to invent. 

Aim to be serious. 

Veiled and mysterious. 
Learn to devise a symbolic refrain. 

Flee all plain-speaking, 

Serpent-like sneaking, 
Creeping, and crawling the laurel will gain. 

Truthful be sparely; 

Miss the nail squarely. 
Stroking thy words at a leisurely pace. 

Truckle to fashion; 

Screen fiery passion. 
Critics to please, who will grant thee the race. 
104 



Search, undespalrmg, 

Loathing all swearing, 
Lexicons, standards, — by nothing dismayed. 

Conjure, nought ruing, 

Sense misconstruing. 
Phrases and words, scintillating, arrayed, 

Dead are past ages. — 

Pegasus rages, 
Drest in a glittering, uncertain costume. 

Shining and flashing, 

Blindfolded, dashing 
Starward, where, ghostly, frail meteors loom. 

Note that, serenely, 

Aged and queenly. 
Feeling and thoughts sleep in measureless space. 

Ignore them, supinely. 

Thus, writing divinely. 
Fame is assured thee by popular grace. 
1900 

THE PAST TO THE PRESENT 

The Past it spoke to the Present, and said: 
"You gather the harvest of seeds I spread. 
I toiled and I toiled, and my heart and my brain 
Mixed blood and thought with my soil and my 
rain." 

"You boast and you blare of your progress rare, 
Your comfort and happiness everywhere. 
You vaunt your steam, your conceited microbe. 
And your speaking sparks that encircle the globe." 

"You prance upon fields my muscle laid bare; 
You dash through the sea, you enslave the air; 
And you utter, with pride, that none else, beside 
Your own ships rode ever on fortune's tide." 

105 



"You speak of your mercy, my blood-thirst decry, 
To vie with your era all others defy. 
In grace, and in prowess, in justice, and fame, 
Your praise with your brazenest trumpets proclaim." 

"I lived as you live, and the human heart 
Cannot be transformed by fit and by start. 
I fought as you fight, and my heroes were great 
As any you offered to crown and to state." 

"I thought as you think, and the human mind 
Is riven by doubts and by prejudice blind. 
I slaughtered for faith, and you slaughter for gain. 
And death is but death, though of names he bear 
twain." 

"You swear by your culture and, madly, you pace, 
If need be, destroy an obstructive race. 
I ate, when I hungered, of human flesh; 
Your quarry hangs limp in your trade-woven mesh." 

"I worshipped the sun and I tolled the bell; 
I peopled the heavens and rancorous hell. 
You ransack the sky, and the stars you hand down, 
Mere ciphers, to puzzle both scholar and clown." 

"Your comfort for body, your haste for the mind 
The soul to its earthly abiding place bind ; 
You clip its apt wings and you hem its rapt flight 
To the luminous orbs of the olden night." 

"Yet day follows day, and the time, too, shall be 
When your breed will scoff you, as you now scoff at 

me. 
For pride meets its doom in its surfeit and age, 
When the Author of All turns the self-sated page." 
1903 

106 



MODERN WAR 

Addressed to the Christian Nations 

Ye, who wage war in honor's name, 
And strive with valorous deed for fame; 
Who save the suffering, spare the weak, 
And never cruel vengeance wreak, 
Will hear the plaudits of the world, 
And praise where'er your flag's unfurl'd. 

And ye, defenders of your land. 
No matter where your home may stand, 
No matter what your race may be. 
By despot ruled, or sovereigns free — 
Who can deny your homage true. 
And blessings on your courage, too? 

But ye, who fight but to enslave 
Or, proselyting, souls to save. 
Who thrust your faith and power where, 
Content, a people say their pray'r. 
Are fitter for Mohammed's band. 
With sword and Koran in your hand. 

This is the twentieth century. 
The nations' eyes are ope to see. 
Beware, if, in the Saviour's name, 
You put the Christian world to shame — 
With lust and plunder, greed and pain 
You crucify your Christ again. 
1 901 



X07 



SIC 

With knowledge armed, rare science bequeathed, 
Electric haste of skillful aid — 
The soothful anaesthetic breathed, 
Excision antiseptic made. 

This gun shoots fifteen hundred times 
Within one minute's thoughtless reign — 
To purify earth's narrowing climes, 
And travail prove a thankless pain. 

Were Jove alive, methinks, a roar 
Of laughter would Olympus rock, 
And lichened Pan's awakening snore 
Full nineteen centuries' progress mock 
In saving and slaying. 
1901 

THE WHITE MAN'S PRIVILEGE 

Luke vi., 31 

If the skin be white, e'en wrong is right, — 
A man's a patriot and hero; 
Though he lie and cheat, and grasp and beat. 
And his honest aims be zero. 

For color can ne'er make a man, 

Nor love of home engender. 

The brain's too small to break the thrall. 

Saint Progress cries: "Surrender!" 

Hypocrisy, no ken of thee 

Have backward, simple races. 

With Faith, a cloak, a lightning stroke, 

The sword its pathway blazes. 

X08 



For virtue's white, and the Bible's right, 
While the Devil's black and yellow. 
Since the human soul none can control, 
'Tis the skin decides the fellow. 

Could Buddha teach what exploiters preach. 
To heavenly bliss translated? 
King-futse might tell of the earthly hell, 
That greed and cant created. 
1900 

RAGS AND RUBBISH 

Swaddling clothes of forgotten nations; 
Tattered remnants of fabulous faiths; 
Pharoin edicts and proclamations; 
Ghostly garments of spectres and wraiths — 
"Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags." 

Royal purple and wasted treasure; 
Banners by victors and vanquished borne ; 
Sails spread for riches and sails spread for pleasure; 
Triumphant successes and causes forlorn — 
"Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags," 

Manuscripts penned by oblivioned writers; 
Documents steeped in ephemeral lore; 
Failures of cowards, and doings of fighters; 
Theories nurtured by thinkers galore — 

"Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags." 

Menus long devoured and charming love-letters; 
Checks, cashed and cancelled, in days gone by; 
Sweepings of treaties ; tools, victims, abettors ; 
War's bloody fangs, flirt-diplomacy sly — 
"Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags." 



109 



/ 



Waist-deep, in ambient eternity's waters, 
Standeth, gigantic, old scrubwoman Time, 
Drowning, unceasing, her sons and her daughters, 
Murmuring forever her pitiless rhyme: 

"Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags; 

Rags and rubbish; rubbish and rags." 
1902 

WAR, A. D., 1900— PEACE, A. D. ? 

"'Ready! Charge bayonets! Forward!'" 
"Rush them and cut 'em down! 
What if the shrapnel tear ye, 
Hell and perdition frown?" 

"Blood! — ugh! it spurts all over 
The devil! — his face gone, ye say? 
That reeking mass yonder — his body? 
Forward, — to hell, to-day!" 

"Smoke, and flashes, and crashes. 
Roaring, and clattering din — 
A racket — old Nick is commanding, 
And Heaven seems caving in." 

"Slay, and be slain — for honor; 
Kill, and be killed — for gain; 
Fight, and die for your country; 
Life be not lived in vain." 

"God?" d'ye say, and "Courage?"— 
Whate'er your home may be. 
Whether a savage heathen. 
Or Christian-bom, and free. 



1 10 



Whatever tongue ye rant in, 
Where'er your cradle stood, 
Listen — some folks call it murder 
To shed your fellow's blood. 

Of course, it's taken for granted — 
It's proper and right to slay 
In war; — only pitiful cowards 
This statement dare gainsay. 

But the mighty Lord in Heaven — 
(Whom ye more or less believe — 
Whether your skin be white or yellow — ) 
Your course may watch with grief. 

For He's fashioned ye all in His image 
And made ye men, not beasts; 
He's given ye heads to think with, 
To shun such gory feasts. 

Your mother, who suffered to bear ye, 
Who watched ye with every care, 
Did surely not want ye to murder, 
To save ye from harm was her pray'r. 

Ye're men, first of all, human beings. 
And it's men ye are called on to slay, 
Men, who should all be your brothers. 
Yet who' re ready to kill ye to-day. 

Pity, — that yet are not wiped oTat 
Boundaries, color, and creed. 
Racial distinctions and idioms, 
Narrow ideas and greed. 

Pity — this globe isn't larger. 
With greater abundance of grain; 
That gold is a metal that glitters; 
That loss is contrasted with gain. 
Ill 



If ye were nearer the angels, 
Had less of the spirit for fray ; 
If the beast, that still clings to ye, 
Would leave your mortal clay. 

There might be time for talking 
Of peace and brotherhood; — 
But love's sweet milk is wasted 
On savage thirst for blood. 
1900 

TRUSTS 

We trust in God! The Trust trusts not- 
Trustee of our weal and woe. 
The Lord's great bounty be forgot — 
The Trust so wills, and it be so. 

We trust in God! and He hath breathed 
Within our soul the sense of right ; 
Some spark of Sinai's fire bequeathed 
In righteous cause our way to light. 

We trust in God ! The time draws nigh 
When His command we shall obey, 
And trustless trusts, unwept, shall die. 
And universal trust hold sway. 
1900 

"MANLY SPORT" 

"First blood! Hurrah — the ruby streak! 
Great Scott! — just see that stinging blow! 
Another! Look! — he reels, he falls — 
My, what a fist ! that laid him low." 



112 



"'Get up, you coward!'" — "Watch him rise, 
His face is white — his jaw is set." — 
" 'Now hit him square between his eyes!' " 
"By George! and fight is in him yetl" 

"Why what is up?" — He cuts the air; — 
He gasps, — blood-blinded, bruised, and sore — 
A crash! — down goes the lifeless frame, 
A livid mass, besmeared with gore. 



A faithful friend, who watched at night. 
And hearked his master's every word. 
Lies panting there, with mangled throat, 
While pandemonium's shouts are heard. 

His sight is ebbing; fain he'd creep 
To lick the hand that sold his life — 
A parting glance — he groans and dies. 
And oaths and laughter vile are rife. 



"What pretty pigeons! Hear them coo! 
How bright their plumage, swift their flight! 
I know the song we learned at school, 
When roosting pigeons say 'good night.' " 

"What? — twenty-thousand? We're in luck! 
What fun it is to peg away 
And drop them with a steady hand — 
Except the few that go astray." 



" 'Tis great, this sport, to kill or maim. 
It gives you vim, and then — the stakes! 
There's courage for you; that's the game — 
Of timid boys brave men it makes." 

113 



"Of course 'tis Rome, — say A. D. one, 
When heathen rites held godless sway; 
Or bloody and benighted Spain, 
When she, alone, did crave Gathay." 

Why no, good friend, look 'round, or read 

The papers, and rejoice to see 

Your chance, at home — United States, — 

Progressive twentieth century! 

1 901 

THE POET 

He's quite a useless fellow. 
That fellow what writes them rhymes. 
He ain't worth a cent in politics, 
And acts queer at sundry times. 

He's careless about his dressin', 
And don't give the barber a show. 
He can't make a decent livin,' 
And is rather unusual slow. 

His views is always contrary — 
He don't see the good in a deal ; 
He'll never, I'm sure, make his fortune; 
And he says to graft is to steal. 

When other folks talk, he's quiet. 
And dreams half his life away 
About human possibilities. 
While we go a makin' hay. 

He sees splendor in the sunlight 
When we others feel blazin' hot; 
And when it comes to the moonshine, 
A mania, by gosh, he's got. 

114 



I wouldn't employ him a clerkin', 
At two-and-a-half per week. 
He couldn't manage a shovel, 
Of ploughin' I wouldn't speak. 

He's down on lynchin' and baitin', 
And he must be color-blind, 
When he says he sees no diff'rence 
In the make-up of all mankind. 

When it comes to trade and expansion, 
He's nowhere up-to-date; 
And he's got scruples and outlandish notions 
About our progressive fate. 

When we talk of usin' our elbows 
And the greatest philosopher cite. 
He says "the survival of fittest 
May be true, but it isn't right." 

He don't join in spreadin' the eagle 
And boastin' what we can do — 
He'll come with his dreams of millenium 
And peace, that never come true. 

I'm sure I've no use for that fellow, 
That fellow what makes them rhymes; 
He's out with all practical notions. 
And never quite up to the times. 

For one thing, though, I'll give him credit, 

I've never known him to cheat; 

But when it comes to o'erchargin', 

He's a deuce of a cuss to beat. 

1900 



"5 



LE GRAND TOUR 

Get the children ready, Bessie; 
Have the carriage at the gate; 
See that all the trunks are fastened, 
For the steamer sails at eight. 

Six days on the proud Atlantic; 
Seven vi^eeks in smiling France, — 
With the loveliest time in Paris, 
Where the hours and minutes dance. 

Then for Germany's gray castles 

On the dreamy, sunlit Rhine; 

Sweet "Gemuethlichkeit," and "Roemers" 

Brimmed with golden, sparkling wine. 

Switzerland's cloud-piercing summits 
In their cloak of glittering snow, 
We'll ascend, and drink, at twilight, 
Rapture and the alpine glow. 

Slowly, then, we'll search the garden, 
Europe's flowery paradise, 
Milan, Florence, Rome and Naples, — 
Art and beauty feast our eyes. 

As the season wanes, we'll travel 
O'er the blue and tranquil sea; 
Taste of Turkey's real coffee, 
Up the Nile steam leisurely. 

Sphinx and Pyramids we'll visit. 
With a side-trip to Khartoum, 
Then embark, and sail for Jaffa, 
Through the Holy Land to roam. 



Ii6 



If, perhaps, since we've the credit, — 
Gilt-edged stock and bonds galore — 
"Hear — there — John! Get up, you dozcr,- 
Half-past six, or even more!" 

"Breakfast's on the table, waiting 
And your sandwich's ready, too. — 
Wake up! — ^you'll be late, I tell you. 
And your tardiness you'll rue." 

"Now — you won't? Don't you remember 
How, last week, you overslept, 
And the firm, for your defection. 
Ten cents of your wages kept?" 

Hurried bites and scorching swallows. 
Breathless speed — a nickel fare, — 
Thus "le grand Tour" to the office. 
Somewhere down, near Chatham Square. 
1901 



117 



SONGS OF CHILDHOOD 



I. SEASONS 

SPRING 

Hear the robin singing 
In the budding tree. 
Golden sunshine, laughing, 
Fills our hearts with glee. 
Listen to the birdies; 
See the clear blue sky; 
Green the grass is waving 
Where the brook goes by. 

Let us hasten to the meadow 
Where the blue-eyed violets peep. 
We will sing a song of greeting, 
While they waken from their sleep. 

Gladly from its slumber, 
Nature fair awakes, 
Perfume sweet, and color 
From the sunshine takes. 
Happy time of blossoms; 
Gentle breezes sway. 
Joyful is our welcome, 
Lovely, blissful May. 

Let us hasten to the meadow 
WTiere the blue-eyed violets peep. 
We will sing a song of greeting. 
While they waken from their sleep. 
1898 



121 



SUMMER 

In the east the sun is glowing, — 
Hear the rooster sound his note: 

Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 
Who is going now a-mowing? 
Golden-ripe the wheat is growing, 

Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 

In the leafy coverts hidden, 
Sings the cuckoo-bird its song: 

Cuckoo, Cuckoo ! 
And the curious boys, unbidden, 
Seek the paths, by thorns forbidden, 

Cuckoo, Cuckoo! 

Round the barn, the swallows flying. 
Swiftly darting, ever chirp.: 

Cheewit, Cheewit ! 
On their graceful wings relying. 
Like a band of air-sprites, crying: 

Cheewit, Cheewit! 

Out of doors, the children playing; 
Shouts of pleasure fill the air: 

Heigho, Heigho! 
Summer's beck'ning glad obeying. 
O'er the sunlit pastures straying, 

Heigho, Heigho! 
1898 

AUTUMN 

Gone are the flowers, the birdies have flown. 
Grey clouds in the sky by the chilling wind blown. 
But Nancy and Harry skip over the field. 
In glee at the sports that the season will yield. 



122 



'Tis the time of ripe chestnuts, of apples, a store, 
With a peep at Thanksgiving and pop-corn galore. 
How it braces, this air of the bountiful fall, 
Red cheeks, joyous laughter, while chasing the ball. 
1898 

WINTER 

Come, my little darling Nell, 
Golden-haired, come hither. 
Fair, the story I shall tell, 
Spite the dreary weather. 

When the snow lies, soft and white. 
All the ground enwrapping; 
Where the nothern-light shines bright 
Santa is not napping. 

And for little girls and boys 
Who have been behaving, 
O what wondrous gifts and toys 
Santa Claus is saving. 

At the dawn of Christmas morn, 
All the stockings swelling 
With the good things, hither borne 
From dear Santa's dwelling. 

Joy to every little one 
At sweet Christmas bringing; 
Happy day of gifts and fun, 
Day of love and singing. 
1898 



123 



II. GAMES 

PLAYING BALL 

Here's the ball, — now watch it, Harry, 
Straight it soars into the air — 
Catch it! don't be 'fraid or tarry, — 
You're a clever boy, for fair. 

Chorus : 

Onej two, three! D'you see it fly. 
Almost way up to the sky? 
Down it comes — now, don't be rash — 
Good! — you've caught it like a flash. 

Upon again! — you must be ready, — 
Not so high, but swift and true. 
Here it goes, for little Freddy, 
With his faithful eyes of blue. 

And once more! — so far it's rising, — 
Run in, nimble Willie! — there. 
That's a ball, — there's no despising — 
For that boy with auburn hair. 
1898. 

SKIPPING THE ROPE 

Turn the rope; turn the rope! 
One, two, three ; one, two, three. 
And I jump so gracefully, 
One, two, three ; one, two, three. 
Never miss my turn, I hope. 
One, two three; one, two, three. 
Whirling ever faithfully, 
One, two three ; one, two, three. 

124 



Turn around! turn around! 
One, two, three ; one, two, three. 
And I float so dreamily, 
One, two, three; one, two, three. 
While my feet scarce touch the ground,. 
One, two, three ; one, two, three. 
Don't be turning lazily. 
One, two, three ; one, two, three. 
1898 

HOOPLE SONG 

I've got a nice new hoople 
And I will run a race. 
Whoever wants to beat me, 
Must risk a headlong pace. 

Chorus 

Running and rolling along. 
Singing a cheerful song; 
Onward we speed like the wind. 
Leaving all others behind. 

Just see it rolls so steady; 
The houses past me fly; 
It runs its course, as lightly 
'As birds go speeding by. 

The goal that we have chosen 
Will soon come in our view; 
Along, my trusty hoople, 
I ever speed with you. 
1898 



125 



1898 



1898. 



PLAYING TAG 

You art it; you are it — 
Catch me, if you can! 
Over stones and fences 
Run, my little man. 

Never touched me, never. 
Run with all your might. 
And I'll always dodge you. 
Till I'm out of sight. 

Thought you had me, did you? 
'Guess you're wrong this time. 
Now I'll try a-walking, 
While the hill you climb. 

My, but you came nearly 
Tagging me, for fair — 
At the post I'll meet you, 
Yonder — over there. 



HIDE AND SEEK 

Are you ready, all of you? 
Ready ! Ready ! Ready ! 
Now I'll find you, sure, I do — 
Steady! Steady! Steady! 

In the pantry one must be — 
Quiet be, oh sissy! 
Some one's hiding there, I see — 
Run, my little missy! 

And behind the kitchen door — 
Ha! I guess he's found me. 
Touch the mark upon the floor! 
You walked all around me. 

126 



1898 



III. WEE FOLKS 

FAMILIAR VOICES 

Can you tell me, little fellow, 
How the rooster crows at mom. 
Dressed in red and green and yellow, 
Greeting, loud the day, just born? 
Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 

And the bird that, in the forest, 
Leaves its nest and flies away, 
That some foster-mother birdie 
By the little ones must stay? 
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! 

When at eve — now listen, sonny — 
By the bam they swiftly fly, 
To and from their nests so bonnie, 
What do speeding swallows cry? 

Cheewit! Cheewit! 

After dark, when all are sleeping, 
With her glowing eyes so bright, 
How does pussy, stealthy creeping, 
Break the stillness of the night? 

Meow! Meow! 



DOLL SONG 



Good moming, little dollie; 
I hope you've slept all right, 
For I have been a-dreaming 
Of you the long, dark night. 



127 



1898 



Chorus 

Dear little dollie, my darling. 
You always smile so true. 
I never will, never neglect you. 
My dollie, I surely love you. 

My see, how you look drowsy; 
I'll comb your fluffy hair; 
And I must wash you, darling, 
To make you bright and fair. 

Right after breakfast, dollie, 
I'm going to wheel you out. 
Tugged nicely in your carriage, 
For you must be about. 

We'll call on pa and mamma, 
On baby brother too; 
For I am sure he loves you, 
As all good children da 



128 



SEf 12 1912 



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